Winchesters for Dinner
by kotana
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester decide to investigate the Chesapeake Ripper case. They are accidentally rude to Dr. Hannibal Lecter, and you know what happens to rude people. Supernatural/Hannibal crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**All rights reserved to the creators of Hannibal and Supernatural and stuff. I have no idea what I'm doing. **

Chapter One

"Where'd you even find this case?" Dean asked without taking his eyes off the road. It was pitch black outside but by the time they arrive in Baltimore, it should be morning.

"I don't know," his younger brother Sam replied. "Some website called Tattlecrime written by Freddie Lounds. Why?"

"It just doesn't seem like our kind of thing. What did it say about the victims?"

"Well some of their organs were missing, some corpses were built into a giant totem pole, some faces were cut in half, some diabetics were buried alive and used as a mushroom garden, lots of different stuff." Sam ranted off all of the crime scenes he remembered seeing online.

Dean mentally attempted to go through a list of all the creatures they've hunted, but when nothing fit the criteria, he just shrugged. "Who exactly are we going to interrogate?" His brother flipped through his small notepad until he found the page he was looking for.

"It said that some guy named Will Graham had been working on the case, but he seems to be too unstable to operate without the help of his psychiatrist, Dr. Lecter. Maybe the doctor can see the sense in his patients' madness, so I recommend we talk to him first." Sam stated.

Dean grunted his agreement. They still had a few more hours until they would be in Maryland. The conversation dulled until the only sound left was the faint hum of the impala's engine.

oOo

Hannibal Lecter sat in the chair across from his most interesting patient, Will Graham. The empath was attempting to describe the crime scene he was previously at where a girl had drowned in her own blood after her mouth was ripped apart into a Glasgow smile. Hannibal didn't care about how she was killed, since it was most likely messy and unplanned unlike his own creations; however, he _was_ interested in how Will lost track of time and contaminated the crime scene.

"I don't even know how I'd gotten there. One moment I was at home and then somehow I was kneeling over her in a pool of her blood." Will explained. "I- I thought I killed her."

Hannibal was about to reply when he smelled something unusual. He was gifted with an excellent sense of smell, which was an asset whenever he was cooking. But now he sensed a different fragrance that masked Will's usual scent of encephalitis and cheap aftershave. He averted his gaze to the door; mere moments before it was jolted open by two men in suits.

"We're agents Cliff and Marley from the FBI. We need to ask you a few questions." The shorter one demanded.

Hannibal looked to Will to see if he knew these people, but he looked just as surprised. "Dr. Hannibal Lecter, and that's my informal patient, Will Graham." Hannibal stood up and shook each of their hands. As Will got up and quickly made his way towards the taller of the two men, the shorter one stepped possessively in front.

"Hey man, control your crazy people!" He yelled out. Hannibal breathed slowly; he did not want to appear as angry as he really was. He stepped closer to the angry agent.

"My patients are fully capable of restraining themselves, and Mr. Graham is _not_ crazy." He almost spat the finale word in disgust, but that would be rude. The man huffed and looked back at Will, who was now eyeing him suspiciously.

"Could I see those badges again?" Will asked. "I happen to be a consultant for the FBI and I don't think I've ever seen you." Hannibal saw guilt and worry flash through the very tall man's eyes, but it quickly disappeared_. If only Will would make eye contact, he could be so much more intimidating,_ Hannibal thought. But he knew how much his patient opposed the simple action, so he made up for what Will lacked. He closed most of the gap between him and the shorter stranger and stared intently into his green eyes. For such a strong man, he held a lot of pain behind those eyes. Hannibal wondered what else he was hiding.

The taller man clumsily retrieved his badge from his suits' inside pocket and his partner did the same. Hannibal saw nothing abnormal, but almost immediately Will drew his gun on the men.

"They're fake." Will confirmed. "Dr. Lecter, I think you should call Jack Crawford."

"With pleasure." Hannibal replied. Not the punishment he would have preferred for these rude men, but having them arrested would suffice. Personally, Hannibal thought that they would make a good entrée with a rich garlic butter and wine. He began to walk toward his desk to get the phone when he felt a gun push into his upper back.

"I don't think that's a good idea." The shorter stranger said as he pushed with the tip of his gun to lead Hannibal away from the phone. As Hannibal turned, he saw a tall man reluctantly pointing his own gun at Will, who hadn't wavered his aim either.

"Perhaps there is a better way to go about this." Hannibal agreed, remaining calm and composed. When no one moved, he decided to avoid a fight and give in temporarily to these strangers. Maybe if he showed to be no threat, he could get them to join him for dinner. "Will, why don't you put your gun away?" He proposed and stepped closer to his patient. He felt the armed man follow closely behind him.

Will seemed unsure, torn between trusting his psychiatrist and shooting the imposter. Hannibal took this opportunity to reach over him and slowly take his gun. He made a show of removing the ammunition and tossing the gun into his chair. The taller stranger then followed his actions, causing his partner to yell out at him.

"What are you doing?! We got 'em now!"

The tall one just shrugged and began to explain. "We need their help, Dean. We don't have to hold them hostage to ask them some questions. Just put the gun down for now."

_So we have a name now. The angry one is called Dean, _Hannibal concluded. Dean didn't seem happy with the idea, but Hannibal felt the gun lower from his back and heard him remove the bullets.

"Who even are you guys?" Will asked, doing a poor job of hiding his irritation.

"Sam Winchester," the tall one said and then beckoned to his partner. "And this is my brother, Dean." The brother just grumbled, clearly still upset about not using his gun.

Hannibal was unsatisfied with just their names. It didn't fully answer Will's question and they knew it. "Well why are-"

"Okay can you stop with all the interrogations?" Dean cut him off. "We just need to know a few things and we're outta here."

Hannibal's sentence faded into a low growl that no one else was able to hear. It is rude to interrupt when someone else is talking. Doesn't Dean realize that? "Well I have another patient scheduled to be here any minute. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Hannibal instructed as he guided them towards the door. "But," he continued before they could argue and resist, "If it is still necessary to talk with us, then it will be over a meal. I'd love to have you both for dinner."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for actually reading this thing:) Hope ya like it!**

Chapter Two

"Why would you say yes to that?!" Dean yelled once he and Sam were in the parking lot.

"Well we still needed to talk to him and maybe if you had some food then you wouldn't be so eager to shoot the man's head off!" Sam replied as they approached the impala.

Dean opened the driver's side door to his beloved vehicle. He was careful to get in and slam the door shut, not hard enough to disrespect the car, but enough to show his brother how mad he was. "There's something off about that guy. He's so calm and cold. That's not how normal people react when two guys with guns bust in." He stated as he stuck his keys into the ignition, causing the engine to roar to life.

"Dinner is at seven, so you can analyze him then. I don't see anything wrong with him. I'm more interested in that Will guy. He wouldn't look me in the eyes so I couldn't tell if they were black demon eyes or something. Plus, Tattlecrime quoted him saying that he thinks about killing people for a living." Sam suggested.

Dean sighed. "Maybe you're right, Sammy. I don't know, something about Dr. Lecter just pisses me off." He signaled the end of the conversation by turning on the radio. He fumbled around with changing the station a few times, and then settled for Aerosmith. He looked ahead at the road and tried to clear his mind of the psychiatrist. 7:00 would come soon enough.

ooo

"Wait." Dean commanded. It was 7:03 so they were already late, but as he stood before Dr. Lecter's door, he came to the realization that it could be a trap.

"What? Come on, Dean, we already talked about this. It's just one dinner to ask them a few questions so we can figure out what we're hunting." Sam protested.

Dean attempted to peer through the windows. "Not that, it's just that we almost shot the guys and they know we're not FBI. Maybe there are cops in there, it could be a set-up. I say we should just scope out around-" Dean's sentence stopped abruptly as the door opened to reveal Dr. Lecter, still in a three-piece suit and tie.

"It is rude to show up late to a dinner scheduled for _your_ personal reasons. Come in, the food is almost ready." The words rolled off the doctor's foreign tongue as he stepped aside to let the brothers in. They were led to a long table where Will already was seated and staring down at the napkins. Sam took a seat across from Will and Dean sat beside his brother.

Dr. Lecter then began to pour each of them some red wine. As he lingered over Dean to pour him his glass, Dean observed him take a sharp intake of breath. It was barely noticeable, but it seemed intentional. _What the hell?_ Dean thought to himself. _Did this creep just smell me?_ He looked to his right to see him do the same to Sammy.

"Hey, cut it out!" Dean yelled, grabbing the attention of Will, who finally looked up. The doctor opened his mouth and was about to defend himself when all three of them were distracted by Will's random spasm the shook the table.

"Will? Are you alright?" Dr. Lecter asked as he moved swiftly around the table to comfort his patient. Dean took this opportunity to look at Will's eyes. They were wide, blue and terrified, but not the black eyes of a demon. Then again, demons don't always reveal their true eyes.

"W-What?" Will stuttered. "Uh… yeah I just… thought I saw something." Dean looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary, besides Dr. Lecter's unique choice of interior decorating.

"What was it?" Sam inquired.

"A… uh… moose, I think." Will replied, unsure. Sam squinted at him, instantly recognizing his nickname given to him by Crowley. Dean caught it as well. _Maybe the guy _is_ a demon. How else would he know the king of Hell? Maybe Sam's right and it's not Dr. Lecter that we have to worry about. _The room was quiet. No one knew how to respond.

"Will, why don't you help me bring dinner in? I could use an extra hand." Dr. Lecter broke the silence and beckoned to Will. His patient nodded and both men left for the kitchen.

"Dean," Sam whispered, "Holy water."

Dean understood and quickly slipped his flask out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He leaned over the table and poured some of the clear liquid into Will's wine. He paused for a millisecond, and then poured some into Dr. Lecter's glass as well. He closed the flask and tucked it back into his pocket just moments before Dr. Lecter and Will returned with dinner.

oOo

Hannibal held the dishes in his hands as he walked out of the kitchen with Will. He had not truly needed his help, but when Will claimed to see a moose, the expressions on his guests' faces were confused and furious. He could not risk his Will getting hurt, so he had him leave the room as well.

"Uh, what is this stuff?" Dean asked him as he was served a slice of meat. Hannibal saw a faint glint of desire in the man's eyes and concluded that he was a food lover who ate very few home-cooked meals.

"Coquilles with Foie Gras." Hannibal stated simply. When he wasn't further questioned, he finished serving and sat down next to Will, across from Dean. This was unusual for him, because he usually preferred to sit at the head of the table, but he would make an exception this time.

Dean immediately dug into the meat like an animal. _A shame, really, not to savor such a delicate meal,_ Hannibal thought, displeased. He carefully lifted his wine glass and was about to take a sip when he found that something was different. The scent wasn't as strong, as if it'd been watered down. His guests must have added something to his glass. He didn't smell any harmful chemicals or drugs, but it is better to be safe than sorry. He stood up with his glass and leaned over to take Will's as well.

"It appears as though I've opened a bad bottle of wine by mistake. Please excuse me." Hannibal explained as he eyed the brothers suspiciously and left the dining room. He proceeded to get two new glasses and poured new wine. He returned to the table to see a slightly confused Will and two shocked Winchesters.

"So… uh, we have some questions for you." Dean stuttered out. "Dr. Lecter, I did some research and I found that you killed a guy. Tobias Budge." Hannibal witnessed the man's brother nudge him as a warning, but Dean just shrugged.

Hannibal was _not_ amused. "He attacked me. I did what I had to in order to ensure my own life." He responded. Dean didn't appear to be content with his answer, but he stayed quiet and shoveled more food into his mouth, causing Hannibal to grimace.

"So, Will." Sam began. "People seem to think you're unstable. What do you do to make them think that? Maybe do you… see things that aren't supposed to be real?" Now Hannibal was furious. He did not like these guests interrogating his patient. Will was _his_ experiment. However, Will didn't seem bothered, so Hannibal bit his tongue.

"I, uh, see things that aren't there, I empathize with murderers, and kinda lose track of time," Will stated as if it were a normal topic. He still didn't look up from his plate though, avoiding all eye contact.

"What do you see?" Sam probed.

Will squinted and shook his head. "I don't know. Garrett Jacob Hobbs, a moose or stag or whatever that has feathers, a lot of victims from crime scenes I've visited. Sometimes I see this extremely thin, boney black creature. I think it's my mind's manifestation of the cannibal the FBI is searching for."

Both of Hannibal's guests looked like they've figured something out, like something clicked in their heads. Hannibal didn't like it. He needed to change the subject before they continued to connect the dots. He thought back to the research he'd read about the Winchesters before they had arrived.

"Excuse me, if I may, but I did some research of my own on you two and found that you were wanted by the FBI and were found… _dead_. A couple times, actually." Hannibal smirked to himself when he saw an expression of panic appear on the brothers' faces. "Care to explain?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Hannibal was extremely proud of himself after witnessing his two guests freeze up in utter shock. He saw them exchange worried glares, completely unable to manifest an explanation. He successfully hid his satisfaction from his guests by wearing a fake, concerned expression. Turning to Will, he saw that the FBI agent was desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

"We… uh… were framed." Dean managed to stutter out, obviously trying to come up with a logical reason.

Hannibal stifled his amusement. _Surely these boys can do better than that_, he thought. Honestly, he didn't care why they were somehow reported dead on multiple occasions. His main goal was to drag the attention away from Will and the Chesapeake Ripper case, and he accomplished just that.

"That is quite unfortunate." Hannibal stated. "They did an exceptional job; after all, the bodies were identified as you and the security footage was all over the news. Dean, I believe there was even a police sketch that looked alarmingly similar to you." He saw the man force a smile on his face, though the way he squirmed slightly in his chair and clenched his fists gave away his true feelings.

"Yeah, I guess there was. Could I talk to my brother alone for a second?" Dean asked as he nudged Sam and started to get up from his seat. There was pure hatred in his voice, but Hannibal pretended not to notice.

"Of course." He replied. As soon as the Winchesters were out of sight, he stood up and began picking up their half-filled dishes.

"Didn't they just go into the other room?" Will asked cautiously as he finished up his meal. He had stayed quiet during Hannibal's accusation but was clearly suspicious and wary of the men that were sitting across from him.

"Something tells me they're not planning on returning," Hannibal stated. As if on cue, the front door slammed shut. Will picked up his empty plate and followed Hannibal to the kitchen.

"I guess I should go, too. My dogs need to be fed and let outside. Thank you for dinner," Will mentioned as he grabbed his jacket. Hannibal placed the dishes in the sink to be cleaned at a later time. Right now, he had some other business to attend to, but first his patient would have to leave.

"Any time, William. My house is always open to friends. I'll see you at our next session." Hannibal replied. He led Will to the door and opened it for him, smiling to himself when he saw the Winchester brothers and their car still parked in front of the house.

"Bye Dr. Lecter," Will called and walked out. Hannibal watched him glance at the brothers, get into his car and drive off without another word. He observed the Winchesters sitting in their car, unable to drive away, waiting to gain the courage to confront him once again. Their body language showed that they were both angry and frustrated, yelling out something that was stifled by the car surrounding them. Hannibal chuckled and shut the front door. He sat down nearby, waiting patiently for them to knock on his door again. He jingled the keys to the impala in his hand, easily swiped from a man too interested in the food being served to notice Hannibal reach into his coat pocket. After all, it is quite rude to leave in the middle of dinner.

oOo

"How the hell did he know all of that?!" Dean yelled angrily at his brother. They had both left in a rush, not taking the time to say their farewells to the psychiatrist and his patient. The conversation had gotten to a point where he and his brother were stuck in an unexplainable situation, so to avoid further interrogation, they had stormed out.

When his brother couldn't reply, he continued his rant. "I mean, first he somehow knew that there's holy water in his drink, then he brings up how we supposedly died! Didn't Charlie remove all evidence that that ever happened?" Dean thought back to when their computer genius friend had hacked into every website they found that wrote an article about their deaths and removed all proof. _I _know_ we deleted them all, where did Dr. Lecter find that information? _

"I don't know, Dean. Can we just get out of here? At least now we have some idea of what we're hunting." Sam mentioned, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

"Yeah, it sounds like we're looking for some form of a Wendigo. Though I've never seen one so mentally developed to a point where it can plot out its prey and kill it in neat way, but I guess there's a first time for everything. We've seen weirder things. Besides, it fits Will Graham's description." Dean concluded as he reached into his pocket for his keys. When he found only lint, he tried his other pocket. Nothing. Dean could feel Sammy watching him as he searched each of his pockets, growing more furious by the second. Dean took a deep breath.

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch." He stated simply, rage building up inside of him.

"Just calm down a second, maybe you forgot them or something. You can't just run in there like a wild animal." Sam said, trying to reason with his brother. Dean turned and looked him dead in the eye.

"Oh yeah? Watch me." Dean pushed the door open and stormed out, slamming it behind him.

"Dean, wait! Don't make him mad, try to relax!" Sam called out desperately to his brother, who by now had stomped halfway across the doctor's lawn.

"No, Sammy! No one messes with my car," Dean yelled back at him. He was outraged. He hated this damn psychiatrist and he couldn't handle it anymore. Maybe he would feel better once this guy was beaten into the ground. He reached the porch and pounded angrily on the door. Without even giving Dr. Lecter a chance to open it, he kicked the door in.

"Where the hell are my-!" Dean was silenced the second he walked through the doorway when a strong arm came out from behind him and clasped a tight hold around his neck. A cold cloth was pushed up against his mouth and nose. By the time he identified the sharp scent as chloroform, it was too late to fight back. Before Dean could even comprehend what was happening, the world faded to black.

oOo

**Thanks for reading:) There's obviously two sides to this, the good guys and the bad guy, so who do you guys think should win? I love both TV shows and fandoms equally, so I'm indifferent. So which would you rather read? Should the Winchesters pull through and outsmart Hannibal Lecter or should the bad guy win for once and have the brothers become dinner? Or should I attempt to take this a completely different direction and create a ton of chaos?**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dean woke up in a daze. Questions flooded his head as he attempted to make sense of the situation. Cold metal surrounded his wrists like shackles and he found that he was chained to a brick wall. He instinctively tested the strength of the metal and noted that they were much too strong to be broken. His head throbbed in pain as he looked up to check his location.

The air was damp and cold gray walls surrounded him on all sides, so he assumed that he was in the basement. A small table sat in the center, covered in surgical equipment such as scalpels, knives, scissors and vices. The room itself was dimly lit by a single light bulb and chain off in the corner.

The sudden realization that Sam could be in danger hit Dean like a pound of bricks. He had to get out of here. He immediately reached one of his hands into his opposite sleeve searching for the small lock-picking case. His action was soon interrupted by the sound of a heavy door slamming shut on the other side of the room.

"I see you that you are finally awake." The heavily accented voice stirred anger in Dean. He looked up to see his captor, Dr. Lecter, still in his suit and wandering closer to Dean. "I assume you are looking for this?" The man held up Dean's lock-picking tools and smiled. "You didn't honestly think that I wouldn't check you for weapons, did you?"

Dean didn't reply. He immediately switched sleeves in search for his backup tools and heard the doctor chuckle.

"You are a smart man, carrying an extra just in case. Unfortunately for you, I seem to be smarter." Dr. Lecter held up Dean's backup case, an expression of complete content on his face.

Dean locked eyes with the psychiatrist and asked in an angry yet calm voice, "Where's Sam?" Dr. Lecter strode closer to Dean, looming over him. Dean wasn't intimidated. When he received no reply, all attempts to keep his composure disappeared. "Damn it, where's Sam?!" He yelled out, his voice leaving a small echo in the concrete room. When the man just smiled, Dean took action and swung out his legs around him. He successfully hit the tendon on the back of the man's knee, causing his left leg to collapse, leaving him in a kneeling position. Dean tried to get another kick in, but the doctor adapted and was prepared. Dean felt a hot, ripping sensation tear through his knee as Dr. Lecter caught and abruptly twisted his leg. A low grunt ruptured from Dean's throat and he recoiled his legs.

"As I said before, you are a very intelligent man. It's a shame that your rude attitude overwhelms it." The man said. "And to answer your question, Sam is okay as of this moment. I make no guarantee of his health when I finish with you."

Dean was furious, but he couldn't ignore the confusion that lingered in the back of his head. _Why didn't this guy just call the cops like a normal person? What the hell is he even planning on doing to us?_ "They're gonna catch you, ya know," he cautiously mentioned. "You're not going to get away with murder." But Dr. Lecter just chuckled to himself.

"They haven't caught me yet."

Realization flooded over Dean. _He's the goddamn Chesapeake Ripper. Guess we weren't looking for a monster after all. _Though the information was important, it didn't quite help his situation at all. However, his fate was now clearer to him. He was going to be brutally murdered and put up for display somewhere, and so was Sammy. Dean was enraged, and he still didn't understand why the doctor was doing this. He understood monsters and why they killed, but humans are just crazy.

"Now," Dr. Lecter began, "I've only got so much time to do my work before I have to be back at my office in the morning. You've been asleep a long time and I wanted to make sure you were awake before I started." He circled around the table in the center, examining each tool. "You've been very rude to my patient and I, so I believe it would be best for you to serve the consequences." He picked up the scalpel and made his way back to Dean.

Dean sat up against the wall and stared at the doctor, unafraid. He was approached slowly, cautiously, but he made no attempt to attack again. He was constantly reminded that it was a bad idea as the muscles in his leg continued to burn. The blade was lightly dragged across his left temple. It was sharp and slightly painful, but not deep enough to draw blood.

Suddenly the man stopped. "You're not scared. You don't care if you die," he stated and stood up. "I can see it in your eyes."

Dean scoffed. "Sorry to ruin your fun."

Dr. Lecter smiled, despite being unable to strike fear in Dean. "No worries, I know how to hurt you without even touching you." With that, the doctor retreated and left the room, leaving Dean to ponder in silence.

He had to get out of these chains. He pulled to no avail at the chains tying him to the wall. He grunted in desperation and collapsed back on the floor, defeated.

Dean couldn't tell how much time passed before he heard the door open once again. He looked up to see Dr. Lecter pushing a half-conscious Sam into the corner of the room and chaining him up against the opposite wall.

"STOP!" Dean yelled out, frantic. "Don't touch Sam!" His brother groggily awoke and looked around in confusion.

"Dean?"

"I'm here, Sammy, it'll be okay," Dean reassured his brother with false hope and turned back to Dr. Lecter. "Please, man, let him go." His anger had turned into agony and he pleaded in desperation. The doctor peered into Dean's eyes and smiled a devilish grin.

"There it is. Fear." He stated simply. The doctor grasped his scalpel and walked across the room to Sam. He rested the sharp edge on his collar bone and slowly pushed the blade into the soft flesh between his bone and his neck, spilling out a small river of blood. Dean could only look away as Sammy's yells filled the small room.

Dean felt hopeless. He had failed. All he wanted was to protect Sam at any cost, and now his brother would be lost due to the insanity of a mere human. Maybe there was still one possibility, though. It had been a long time since he'd last asked for help, but he was out of options. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. This was his last chance to save his little brother. _I don't know if you can hear me, but I really need you right now. I'm gonna lose Sam, and eventually myself as well. Please, there's nothing else I can do. Are you there? Cas?_

oOo

**Sorry about only having Dean's P.O.V in this shorter chapter, I'll be sure to include some Hannibal next time. I'm gonna apologize in advance for whatever I end up writing in later chapters, it's probably gonna get weird. Let the chaos begin:)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry it took a bit longer to update. Next Tuesday begins final's week so I've had a lot of work and studying to do. This chapter is longer though, so hopefully that makes up for it :) By the way, I am horrible with anatomy and I have no idea how long Sam would be able to survive with his injury, so sorry about that. **

Chapter Five

Hannibal looked up abruptly from the masterpiece that he had begun to carve into Sam Winchester. He had heard a strange noise, like a strong gust of wind. He spun around, bloodied scalpel in hand, to see a man with dark, messy hair and piercing blue eyes wearing a trench coat. _How?_ Hannibal was beyond confused_. I am sure that I locked every door. Even if I did not, there is no way that he could have gotten in so quickly to where I wouldn't see him._

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed from the corner of the room. _What is a Cas? _Hannibal eyed him suspiciously but refrained from attacking. "Cas, it's him." Dean's gaze flicked to Hannibal. "You gotta end him; look what he did to Sammy."

Hannibal saw the man look over at Sam, who was still not fully conscious after being doused with chloroform and trying desperately not to move or speak in attempt to stop the flow of blood coming from the deep cut in his neck.

"What is he?" The blue-eyed man was once again focused on Hannibal. A silver blade slid out from his trench coat sleeve and he gripped it tightly. He moved swiftly and before Hannibal could even react, the man was four inches from his face, lightly pushing the blade into the sensitive center of Hannibal's lower neck. Hannibal measured the odds of his survival if he were to attempt to attack the man they called 'Cas'. _The man is close and armed with his weapon. That blade would be through my throat before I would have even gotten a chance to back away._ Though he knew he couldn't fight without risking his life, he still had his dignity so he stood up straighter and stared defiantly into the icy blue eyes in front of him.

"Well, uh, it's just a human, Cas." Dean spoke up again in reply to the intruder's question. _Strange choice of words,_ Hannibal thought. _Are we not all human?_ He was firmly against the idea of immortal or extraterrestrial life, but then again, he had never before run into an occasion as unusual as this one.

At the mention of those words, however, Cas's eyes got wider and darkened. Hannibal saw pain and regret flash across his face.

"No, Dean. I promised myself that I wouldn't do that ever again. Not after what happened last time. I've hurt too many of them already." Cas lowered his blade and stepped back. _He's vulnerable now_, Hannibal noticed. Against his better judgment, he was now curious about the strange man and did not attack. He instead decided to watch and see how everything played out on its own.

"That was different, that wasn't you before," Dean pleaded. "You were a god, you were too powerful. Now you have control. Besides, that guy may be human, but he sure kills worse than anything we've ever hunted. Please, Cas, I need your help." Hannibal watched as Cas sighed and began walking towards Sam, who now sat silently against the wall, eyes squeezed in agony, hands tied behind him and unable to apply pressure to the wound that was still pouring blood. Hannibal didn't realize how deep he had truly cut the tall man. The thin blade had gone down quite a few inches. However, the injury was not fatal. Hannibal had made sure of that. He avoided all main bloodlines and arteries.

"Fine." Cas agreed, reluctantly. "I will heal your brother and rid of your captor, but then I'm gone. This is the last time, Dean. I can't continue to hurt people after I've already caused so much destruction." He was now a mere two feet away from Sam when he reached out a hand to his head. Before he could fully make contact, Hannibal stepped defensively in front. _I don't care what he it, the Winchesters belong to me now, _He thought. Cas narrowed his eyes at Hannibal, confused.

"I wasn't finished." Hannibal nearly hissed the words at the man. Hannibal watched him cock his head slightly to the right and lift up two fingers. He started to raise them to Hannibal's forehead, but before the action could be completed, a voice unfamiliar to Hannibal rasped out into the room.

"Hello boys. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep that foreign man alive." Hannibal turned to see a shorter man from whom the rough, accented voice originated from. _Another one?_

Almost immediately, Cas was thrown against the wall by a force that Hannibal couldn't see. His crack into the concrete wall drowned out Dean's desperate yell. The shorter stranger, clearly responsible, smirked and held out his hand to Hannibal.

"Crowley, King of Hell." He introduced. Hannibal had never felt so much confusion and lack of control, but he still was polite and met Crowley's hand with his own.

"Dr. Hannibal Lecter, psychiatrist."

Hannibal stifled a gasp as Crowley yanked his hand closer. He then took a short knife out and slit a deep cut across Hannibal's arm. Hannibal tried to no avail to pull away, trying not to come across as frantic. Of course, he hid it well, and his expression revealed nothing but slight uncertainty.

"Excuse me," Crowley stated as he smeared his hand over Hannibal's wound. "I just need to borrow this a moment." Hannibal grimaced, but was silent. He watched Crowley use his blood to paint a strange symbol on the basement wall. "It was nice seeing you, Cas. We'll have to do it again sometime," Crowley remarked sarcastically as he pulled Hannibal's hand and placed the palm in the center of the symbol. A light filled the small room and Hannibal looked over to where Cas was thrown, but he was already gone with the light.

"Crowley!" Dean yelled out, unable to stop him since Hannibal's shackles held him tightly to the wall. "What the hell was that for? Why are you even here?!"

Crowley smiled and locked eyes with Hannibal. "I heard that the Chesapeake Ripper had the Winchester boys locked up. I just had to see it for myself." Hannibal stiffened at the explanation. _Who else could possible know that? Maybe I'm not doing as good of a job of covering my tracks as I thought I was._

"It's a good thing I came when I did, too." Crowley's raspy voice continued. "You almost let the Winchesters get away again." He was still watching Hannibal closely. "So I'll take 'em off your hands for you. How about we make a deal?"

oOo

Dean was trying desperately to avoid looking at his little brother, bloody and hunched over in the opposite corner of the room. Now with Cas gone, there wasn't any hope left. And now Crowley was basically trying to buy him and Sam off Dr. Lecter. This was just _great_.

"Do I get a say in this?" Dean called out, though he could already guess what the answer would be.

"No." Crowley and Dr. Lecter reply firmly in unison. Dean sighed and sat back against the wall. He looked up to watch the two men make the deal that would determine his and Sam's fate.

"What do you propose?" Dr. Lecter asked. Dean saw him take his handkerchief out of his chest pocket and wrap it around the cut that Crowley had created in order to banish Cas from the room.

"You see, I like you. I like your morals. I'd prefer not to kill you. So, that being said, I'd like to kill the Winchesters myself and in return I'll give you… oh I don't know, a supply of food for about four months?" Crowley's deal didn't surprise Dean. He knew that Crowley had wanted to kill him and his brother for a while now. What Dean didn't expect however, was Dr. Lecter's response.

"No."

Dean watched Crowley blink in disbelief. _Dr. Lecter must really have a plan for us if he's gonna turn down that deal,_ he thought. _Doesn't he realize that he could easily be killed if he pisses Crowley off?_

"Excuse me?" Crowley seemed genuinely confused, but it didn't mask his obvious anger.

"I mean no offense to you," Dr. Lecter explained, "but I do my work in a very intricate way, and I would not like my reputation to be ruined." Crowley stepped closer to the psychiatrist, invading his space. Though he was shorter by about 4 inches, he still stood defiantly and proud. Dean was actually starting to feel a little bit better now. Maybe these two psychopaths will kill each other and leave his brother alone. It was a long shot, but hey, a guy can hope.

"I'll have you know, I've been torturing souls in Hell way longer than you've existed on this planet, so if anything, my work will be an improvement to anything that you have_ ever_ done," Crowley snarled. "If you don't believe me, ask Dean. He's experienced my torture first-hand." Dean looked him in the eye when he heard his name, but he didn't deny the statement.

Dr. Lecter never broke eye contact. "Then I assume you know that you will torture Dean much more if you were to only take Sam."

Dean shot up, only to be yanked back down by the immobile chains. Bad idea. Now he'd just proved the doctor's point to be correct. _Damn. Maybe they didn't notice. _Dean forced himself to look up at the two men to see both Crowley and Dr. Lecter grinning at him. Dean hung his head, knowing that he'd just screwed Sam over.

"Okay, so I get Sam and you can keep Dean. I'll still supply you with two months of 'meat' for your cooking. Do we have a deal, Dr. Hannibal Lecter? You should know, my one rule is that I _always_ hold up my deals, so you have nothing to worry about." Crowley asked, smiling. Dr. Lecter's face still read some confusion, but he seemed to trust Crowley, at lease to some extent. Maybe he was just trying to secure his own life.

Dr. Lecter reflected his smile and held out a hand. "Then yes, I believe we have a deal."

Dean chuckled to himself, trying to find humor in a situation that had gone so horribly wrong. He couldn't bear the thought of what Crowley might do to Sammy, so he pushed the idea away. Right now, he would cherish the fact that the classy psychiatrist didn't know how crossroad demons sealed their deals.

"That's not quite how it works," Crowley stated with a smile. Dean saw Dr. Lecter raise a very faint, almost non-existent eyebrow and drop his hand in confusion.

"Oh…?"

Crowley stepped closer to the psychiatrist, his shoes echoing faintly throughout the room. He put his hands on the doctor's shoulders. "Pucker up," He said with a grin.

Dean dropped his gaze to the ground. He decided to let them have their 'moment' with some privacy. He felt broken. He had failed everyone. All his dad had ever wanted him to do was protect Sammy, and he failed. He had lost Cas's trust by asking him to kill a human again. But worst of all, he'd just cost his little brother his life. He was all alone. _No_, Dean thought._ I'm not letting that crazy psychiatrist get his way. I won't lose to him. I may not be able to save Sammy, but I can at least make Dr. Lecter pay for it. _

"Hey Crowley," he called out. The demon pulled away from a rather surprised and offended psychiatrist.

"What now? Don't bother trying to make a deal for your brother back, it's not gonna happen," Crowley replied.

Dean stared Dr. Lecter in the eyes, but still directed his voice to answer Crowley. "No, it's not that. I just wanted to let you know, since you owe this man a few meals, I think I know the perfect meat. He's in Baltimore, Maryland. His name is Will Graham."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Hannibal felt the color leave his face. On the outside, the psychiatrist just blinked and frowned, but on the inside, he was panicking. This was an unusual feeling for Hannibal; he was always so calm and reserved. But this strange act seemed almost normal in comparison to everything else that had happened today. No, of _course_ Hannibal didn't trust Crowley, but what other choice did he have? Refuse the offer and die anyway? So he complied with the strange deal, and everything was going decently. Even the horrible taste of decay and alcohol that Hannibal experienced when he had to seal the deal with Crowley seemed like a good thing compared to the event that followed. Some nerve that Winchester boy must have to suggest Will Graham to be a meal. But then again, why did Hannibal care about the broken FBI agent? He was just another patient, wasn't he? His original intention when he met the profiler had been to consume him after he so rudely refused eye contact, but now Hannibal had taken an interest in his strange empathetic ways and he found a value in the man's insanity. He couldn't let Crowley kill him.

He looked over to the supposed 'King of Hell'. "I don't think that's completely necessary, you said that you are aware of my morals. Mr. Graham has done nothing uncivil or impolite," Hannibal mentioned.

"Yes he has!" Dean was persistent. "He refuses to look at anyone and he threatened some online reporter."

Crowley paced slowly around the room. His eyes flickered from Hannibal to Dean. Finally, he stopped about three feet in front of Hannibal. "I guess you're receiving your first meal sooner than expected."

_No_. Hannibal didn't know how to reply. He couldn't explain that he wanted Will alive because then Crowley would only desire to kill the agent even more.

"Now that I think about it a little more in depth," Hannibal began, "I wouldn't want to trouble you into doing my work for me. Why don't you just take the large Winchester brother and forget about everything else?"

Crowley squinted at him, confused. Out of the corner of his eye, Hannibal saw Dean smirking to himself. "No. I told you, I always keep up my end of the deal. Now," Crowley insisted, "I must be going. I need to take the moose back to my place and stop in Baltimore along the way." He walked over to the small table in the center of the room that held all of Hannibal's tools. He lifted the rag that was still doused with chloroform and brought it over to Sam, who sat silently against the wall. He yanked against his chains as Crowley held his head firm in one hand and pressed the cloth against his mouth. A low sound was emitted from Sam, but he couldn't quite form a word. "He's easier to handle when he's unconscious," Crowley explained as he reached down and easily pulled the iron chains apart, leaving Sam to slump foreword.

Hannibal could only watch in silence, feeling defeated. Crowley had pulled the metal into two pieces with his bare hands, who knows what he will do to Will. _Dean will certainly suffer the consequences_, Hannibal decided.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Dr. Lecter. And Dean, I'll be sure to take care of Sam," Crowley stated, receiving a reluctant nod from Hannibal and a deadly glare from Dean. As quickly as he had arrived, Crowley placed and hand on Sam's shoulder and they were both gone, leaving Hannibal baffled. Nothing was making sense today. He looked over to his soon-to-be victim who seemed on the verge of tears, despite his successful efforts to make Hannibal feel the same way. _I'll deal with him later,_ Hannibal thought. He quickly walked over to the door and pulled on the heavy steel handle. _Maybe if I drive slightly above the recommended speed limit and take a shorter route, I can make it to Will's house before Crowley does._

"Hey, where're you going?!" Dean called out. Hannibal heard the chains rattle as Dean attempted to stand up.

Hannibal didn't have to reply to that lowlife. He was better than that. Instead, he just opened the door and took a step out.

"If you think it's possible to save Will, then you're wrong. It isn't worth the effort. He's gone."

These words made Hannibal freeze in place. _He could be lying_, Hannibal considered, _but then again, he seems to know more about whatever these people claim to be than I do. He could be an asset_. "What do you mean?" He asked, turning to Dean.

"I _mean_, look at how fast he was able to poof in here. He's probably already in Will's house by now." Dean stated. "Plus, even if you did somehow find Crowley, you wouldn't know how to kill him." This idea had passed through Hannibal's mind as well, but he chose to push it away. He had wanted to believe there was still hope. Hannibal was reluctant to suggest this next idea, but what other option did he have?

oOo

"Would you like to accompany me?"

The question surprised Dean. _This guy is persistent. He just doesn't understand that his friend is dead, does he? _"And why they hell would I want to help you after what you did to my brother?" Dean remarked.

He watched as Dr. Lecter stepped closer and loomed over him. "You may join me and possibly regain Sam as well, or you could rot in my basement until I return and carve you in the most painful ways imaginable. The choice is yours," Dr. Lecter stated as he eyed Dean.

Dean hated the idea of going anywhere with this monster, but he had to admit that it was his better option. At least this way there would be a chance for him to save Sammy. Or, once the psychiatrist unlocks him, he could kill the man and find Sam on his own. "Fine."

The doctor put on a smile of content and looked down at Dean. "However, you will have to answer some questions. First of all," Dr. Lecter stated, "What are you?"

Dean laughed. Of course, it sounded like a ridiculous question to him, but taking into consideration that Dr. Lecter had just experienced one of the most unexplainable things he could imagine, Dean could understand his confusion. "I'm human, trust me. I'm a hunter. I kill demons like Crowley."

Dr. Lecter didn't seem to see the amusement. He was all business. _This guy must be fun at parties,_ Dean thought to himself.

"And the dark haired man with the blue eyes?" Dr. Lecter continued.

"An angel," Dean replied simply. "For the record, there are also ghosts, werewolves, vampires, fairies, shape shifters… oh and dragons," Dean gave a smug smile, causing Dr. Lecter to frown angrily. He clearly didn't believe him.

"Stop with the games." Dr. Lecter scolded as he walked around one side of Dean and picked up the heavy chains that were securing him to the wall. "Now I assume as soon as I free you, you plan to kill me. Am I correct in assuming this?"

Dean swallowed and tensed up, but didn't reply. The psychiatrist chuckled without looking up from the lock on the chains.

"I thought so. Of course, I could always drag you at gunpoint with me, but I prefer to travel in a more civilized manner. Now in attempt to change your plans, I would like to point out how I could be of use to you. Crowley did in fact say that he enjoyed my existence and would prefer not to kill me, did he not? So perhaps if I am on his good side, we could come to an agreement and call off the deal. If you were to kill me, I guarantee that he would not be too fond of you. Seeing that he is easily capable of killing you with the powers he possesses that were able to make the angel collide with the wall and disappear, I think you would agree with me that you do not want to anger him." Dr. Lecter explained.

Dean considered this. As much as he hated to admit it, the guy had a point. Crowley _did_ seem to like Dr. Lecter, or at least he didn't seem to hate him like he did most people. Dean might actually _need_ the doctor in order to have any chance at saving his brother. How bad could it possibly be, anyway? He knew Dr. Lecter wouldn't try to kill him because he needed Dean just as much as Dean needed him. Plus, he could always kill him later once he had Sammy back. "Okay," Dean agreed.

Almost immediately, the lock behind him clicked and the chains slipped from his wrists. Dean shakily stood back up and waited for the blood to circulate back into his legs. His knee burned from the sudden pressure, reminding him that Dr. Lecter may have torn something when he twisted Dean's leg. He paced silently for a few moments until most of the pain ebbed away.

"Are you ready to leave?" Dr. Lecter asked as he brushed past Dean to get to the door.

"Yeah, yeah I guess so," Dean replied, following the psychiatrist. "But can we get something to eat on the way?"

Dr. Lecter scoffed. "Maybe if you had finished your dinner before rudely storming out of the house then you wouldn't be so hungry."

oOo

**I have no idea where I'm going with this. Oh well. Thanks for reading anyway:) By the way, I'm fully aware of the new Hannibal trailer and the new Supernatural episodes, so I know that this doesn't really fit into a specific timeline somewhere, but I hope you don't mind. **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Okay, I actually need my keys now."

Hannibal looked up at Dean as he stepped outside into the cool night. The Winchester was standing across from him holding out a hand, waiting. "Why?" Hannibal replied simply as he stepped down off his porch and started walking past Dean, towards his own car.

"Because we're taking _my_ car," Dean insisted. Hannibal turned around and looked the younger man in the eyes. Hannibal smiled to himself, but it was too dark outside for Dean to notice.

"Fine," Hannibal agreed and switched directions. He walked towards the black impala and stepped around to the driver's side door. Almost instantly he heard Dean sprint over and step between him and the car.

"Whoa, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean scolded and angrily pushed Hannibal away.

Hannibal took a few steps back to regain his balance. He made a small show of brushing off the front of his jacket, as if some horrible particle had transferred from Dean's hands to his clothes. "Now, if Crowley truly does know of my work and is attempting to imitate it, then he will know that my victims are carved where they are killed. That should mean that he, Will, and your brother will be at Will's house for a while more. Do you know where Will Graham lives?" Hannibal asked.

Dean averted his gaze from Hannibal, who smiled, knowing that he's won. Dean muttered something under his breath before replying. "You could just tell me where it is."

Hannibal stepped closer, making up the space he had lost when he was pushed away. "Do we really have time to be driving around in the dark, lost because you either misheard or chose not to follow my instructions? You know that you are stubborn and if you think you have a better way to reach the same destination, you will attempt it without consulting me." When Hannibal received no response, he continued. "Now, either we take my car, or you let me drive yours."

This caused a low, almost silent growl of frustration to rupture from Dean. "You are never going to be anywhere _near_ my car," He warned. Hannibal smirked with content as he walked past Dean towards his own car. He heard Dean follow reluctantly behind, only after laying a hand on his impala and, for reasons unknown to Hannibal, apologizing to the vehicle. Now, with his little dispute with the Winchester settled, he only had to drive to Will's house and hope that he wasn't too late.

oOo

Dean huffed angrily and got into the passenger's side of Dr. Lecter's car. He heard the engine start and almost immediately, quiet classical music began to play from the speakers. Dean groaned and sat back in his seat.

"If we have to take your car, can we at least listen to my music?" Dean asked and reached over to the stereo before giving Dr. Lecter a chance to reply. As he turned the small dial, he looked over to the doctor, assuming he was going to be yelled at. Much to his surprise, the man just inhaled deeply and kept his eyes on the road before them.

"I suppose it is only fair," Dr. Lecter agreed. "But not too loud."

_Yeah, yeah, whatever_, Dean thought. He switched between stations a few moments before coming across the Black Sabbath song, 'Paranoid'. He smiled and turned the volume up until the car was vibrating along to the bass line. He saw Dr. Lecter shoot him an unamused glare. Dean just grinned back at him.

Dean looked out the window a few moments and found that they seemed to be driving to the middle of nowhere. _Will Graham must really hate people to want to move all the way out here. Where are we even going? _Dean reached over to the stereo and turned the music down to a low hum. Dr. Lecter looked over to him and raised an eyebrow. "How much longer until we get there?" Dean asked.

Dr. Lecter chuckled. "You sound like an impatient child."

Dean muttered to himself but managed to refrain from saying anything offensive to the psychopath driving the car. "Just answer the question."

The doctor looked back to the road, but still directed his words to Dean. "It's about an hour's drive from my house to Will's, which is in Wolf Trap, Virginia." _Great_, Dean thought._ I have to spend an hour alone in a car with this guy. Maybe it won't be so bad as long as he keeps quiet._ Dean wasn't so lucky. The two sat in silence for about 30 seconds before Dr. Lecter insisted on speaking again.

"So what is your personality like, aside from the tough 'Hunter' you seem to portray?"

Dean looked over to the psychiatrist. "What?" He didn't want to spend this measly hour with the man and he especially wasn't in any mood to share his life story.

Dr. Lecter's gaze flicked over to Dean for a moment before returning to the road. "You have heard correctly. If I am going to be working with you, I would appreciate knowing something more than just your name. I can sense that you are not a happy man."

Dean gave a short laugh and looked out his window. "Well when you cause the deaths of everyone you care about, it's a little hard to be happy." He could almost feel the heat of Dr. Lecter's glare into the back of his head. He tried to brush the feeling away.

"Just because a few of the people around you get hurt, does not mean that you are the source of it," the doctor mentioned.

Dean had heard this speech before, and frankly, he was tired of it. "Damn it, it's not a few people. It's everyone who ever makes the mistake of getting close to me. I hurt _everyone_. Dad, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Lisa, Ben, Bobby, Benny, and now Sammy," Dean saw his vision get blurry, but he forced it away.

"If you feel responsible for their death then I assume you felt responsible for their life. Surly you realize that they are adults with their own consciences. They can make their own decisions and you are not responsible for wherever those decisions take them." Dr. Lecter spoke calmly and carefully.

Dean gave a weak smile because of the sheer irony of the situation. This psychotic murderer was trying to evaluate Dean's crazy life. "Yeah but I feel-" Realization hit Dean. Dr. Lecter was a psychiatrist; he could easily read this situation and find Dean's weaknesses. "Hey stop it!" Dean yelled out.

The doctor looked over to Dean with a subtly confused gaze. "Stop what?"

Dean glared angrily at Dr. Lecter. "Stop analyzing me like I'm one of your crazy patients!" He spat the words, knowing very well how much the man disliked the term 'crazy'.

Dr. Lecter seemed slightly irritated, but he was calm and looked back to the road. "My apologies, Dean Winchester. I believe it's just a habit of mine. I'm sorry."

Dean's eyes softened. He did not expect an apology from the doctor. He felt a small feeling of regret because of his immediate overreaction to the doctor's questions. He sighed and sat back in the seat. A few moments passed by with Dean just staring out the window. He felt bad for snapping at Dr. Lecter. _Why do I feel sorry? This man murdered a ton of people, he doesn't deserve my respect, _Dean thought. But for some reason he found himself wanting to continue a conversation with the psychiatrist.

"You said you wanted to know more about me because you would be temporarily working with me, so isn't it only fair that I get to know something about you?" Dean asked cautiously.

Dr. Lecter didn't look over at Dean but he nodded his head slightly. "Very well. What is it you would like to know?"

_Don't ask it, Dean. Don't do it_. Dean tried to avoid the question that rattled around his mind, but failed. He had to know. "Why? Why do you have to kill people?"

Dr. Lecter stiffened in the seat next to him. He inhaled deeply and stayed focused on the road. "I feel as though I am doing a… beautiful thing. Imagine a world without rude or impolite people. It's a wonderful place to be. I don't expect you to understand since you are one of those rude people."

Dean scoffed. He wasn't _that_ rude, was he? He tried to see it from Dr. Lecter's prospective, but he couldn't get himself to think of murder as an acceptable thing to do under any circumstances. "But why the hell do you _eat_ them? That's just nasty, man."

Dr. Lecter chuckled and looked over to Dean. "You ate someone too, you know. I saw your plate from dinner earlier today. Almost all of the meat was gone before you and your brother stormed out."

Dean's stomach churned. He wanted to throw up. _How did I not realize that?_ He swallowed down the bile that was slowly rising in the back of his throat. The worst part was, though he hated himself for thinking it, the meat was _really_ good. It was the best food that Dean's had in quite a long time. After eating whatever he and Sam picked up along the road for so long, that meal was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. Dr. Lecter must've looked over and saw his sickened expression because Dean heard him laugh again.

"It's not that bad, stop exaggerating. Haven't you ever gotten a paper cut and instinctively reached up to suck the blood off? Have you never bit your lip or the inside of your cheek? I've just taken this to another level." Dr. Lecter stated.

This pep talk wasn't helping Dean's stomach settle down. He didn't respond to the doctor in fear of what would come out if he opened his mouth. He just looked out the window again, trying not to think about it. Before long, they had driven up to a house surrounded by fields, dead grass, and overgrown shrubs. Dr. Lecter removed his keys, stopping the engine. He looked over to Dean, a concerned expression on his face.

"We have arrived."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Hannibal didn't know what to expect. He had never been in this kind of situation before. He had dealt with many humans before and it was a somewhat simple task, but Hannibal knew nothing about demons. He had seen one for himself and he still wasn't sure of their existence.

Will's house looked completely normal from the outside. There was a faint light radiating from the window but Hannibal could not tell whether or not there were any shadows moving on the inside. Surely Will, or even Crowley, would have heard him drive up. Hannibal craned his neck in attempt to see more of the house, but since they were parked in the street, it was too far away and hidden by untrimmed bushes. He looked over to Dean for instructions.

"We'll scope around from the outside first and see where in the house they are. They might not even be in there, Crowley could be finished already," The Winchester ordered.

Hannibal nodded. "How should we-" He was cut off when he heard two gunshots, one after the other, come from the house. Hannibal felt his heart rate speed up slightly and it took every ounce of strength not to open the door and sprint to the house. He forced himself to stay put and look back at Dean. He always was good with self-control. "What do you think happened in there?"

Dean didn't appear to be surprised by the gunshots. "I'm pretty sure that was Will attempting to shoot Crowley. Sam doesn't have his gun on him because of you, and Crowley wouldn't use a gun for torture," Dean explained. His assumption seemed logical to Hannibal.

"So, is Crowley gone?" Hannibal asked cautiously.

"Nope," Dean said. "Bullets can't kill a demon."

Hannibal sat back in his seat without breaking eye contact with the Winchester. "Well what can?"

Dean reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a thin blade with strange symbols carved into the metal. _How did he get that? I was positive I removed all weapons from him_, Hannibal thought. Dean appeared to have read his expression, because he then shrugged. "I took it from your table as we were walking out. This is a special blade that was made to kill demons."

Hannibal mentally scolded himself for being so clueless to the boy's actions. "Well what do I use?"

Dean laughed, but Hannibal saw no humor in the situation. "Do you really think a new guy like you can take down the King of Hell?" Dean asked, mockingly.

Hannibal's eyes narrowed. "I could have easily killed _you_," he stated. This caused the laughter to stop, but Dean still wouldn't give him a blade.

"I only have one, anyway. Here," Dean handed Hannibal a metal flask. "This is filled with holy water, it's like acid to demons." Hannibal accepted it, though he still would have preferred the knife. He may have never killed a demon before, but he was very crafty with knives and was sure he could've succeeded.

Hannibal placed his hand on the door handle and looked over to Dean. "Shall we begin?"

oOo

Dean gripped the demon blade tightly and exited the car. After making sure Dr. Lecter was following him closely behind, he began to trudge through the undergrowth towards Will Graham's house. There were two large square windows on either side of the front door that radiated light from within the house. Dean figured if Crowley was in there, those huge windows had a good chance of proving it. He crept onto the front porch, staying low enough to where anyone in the house wouldn't be able to see their silhouettes. He stepped over to the right-side window and heard Dr. Lecter creak up and crouch down next to him. Dean peered up over the window ledge.

He heard Will before he saw him. The raspy yell caused the doctor to tense up beside him. Dean's eyes were drawn over to the left side of the room. Near the fireplace and bookshelves, he saw a long, upright table set up with Will Graham chained up to it. Though he was bloodied with light scratches across his bare torso, the yell had sounded when a thin, drill-like tool was plunged into his side between his ribs. He saw Crowley, dressed in his white apron, striding confidently around the table, looking to a metal tray beside him for his next torture device.

Dean scanned the room frantically before finally seeing his brother, chained up again to the opposite corner of the room. Besides the wound to his collar bone inflicted by Dr. Lecter, Sam seemed untouched. He was conscious now that the chloroform had fully worn off, but he kept his head low. His only movements were to wince guiltily whenever Will made a desperate yelp. _Crowley was saving Sammy for later_, Dean realized._ He wanted to take his time with him. _

Dean's gaze flicked back to Will when he heard another yell. Dean shuffled quietly to the other window to get a better view of him. It seemed that Crowley had taken a rake-like tool and dragged it across the man's bare leg. For reasons unknown to Dean, Will was wearing only a pair of briefs. Dean assumed it was what the man slept in, since he couldn't possible have known he would be receiving company in the middle of the night. Apparently Dr. Lecter had followed him to the other window, because Dean then felt an obvious nudge from the man. He looked into the doctors pleasing gaze and knew that he wanted to take action. Dean gave a subtle nod and crept to the door. He slowly tried to turn the handle but it was locked, as Dean had predicted. He looked to Dr. Lecter, who had already taken a key out of his pocket and slid it in the door. _Why does he have a key to his patient's house? _Dean brushed the thought away. He gradually opened the door far enough to slip his head through. Crowley had his back to him since he was facing his prey. Dean only hoped that Will wouldn't look over and bring attention to him. Maybe, just maybe, Dean would be able to slip in and literally stab the King of Hell in the back. He took one step in the house, eyes locked on Crowley's back. Before Dean knew what was happening, he heard rapid thumps of nails and feet.

"What the hell-?!" Dean choked out the words as he was rammed into and forced onto the hard ground.

oOo

Oops. Hannibal was a very smart and recalling man, but in the heat of the moment, it seemed that he had forgotten about the dogs. He knew about Will Graham's obsession with housing stray dogs, he had even been asked to go and feed them when Will was away, hence how he had gotten the key. But Hannibal immediately realized his mistake of not mentioning the animals when all seven dogs had bombarded Dean in their excitement, completely ruining his attempt to sneak up on the demon. They had most likely been given a command to stay in the other room and had obeyed since Will taught them to be a very tame pack; however they could not refrain from greeting a new visitor. Hannibal backed away from the collapsed Dean, hoping that he had kept his own body out of sight.

"Dean Winchester, what a surprise," Crowley laughed and walked closer to the younger man. "Dr. Lecter, I know that you are here too, you might as well step inside."

Hannibal sighed and stepped inside the small house. He looked over to Will, who despite his injuries, managed to look up at his psychiatrist with a pained and confused stare. Dean had now risen beside Hannibal, but before he even had a chance to regain balance and attack with the blade, he was thrown against the opposite wall with a slight flick of Crowley's wrist.

"Now doctor, I thought we had a deal. What brings you here?" Crowley asked.

Hannibal straightened his posture and stared back at the King of Hell. "My patient was not part of that deal. I simply want you to find someone else. You may have both Winchesters in return."

"What the hell, man?!" Dean yelled out from the opposite side of the room. Hannibal felt slightly bad for betraying his hunting partner, however he didn't feel regret. He had wanted to use the man for freeing Will and nothing more.

Crowley smirked at the two, clearly sensing the deception between them. "I'm sorry doctor, but as I've said before, a deal's a deal. It's a tempting offer, but now seeing the reaction I can get from both you and Dean, I think I would like to continue exactly what I'm doing already." His wrist flicked again and Hannibal was hit with an extremely powerful force that shoved him against the wall next to Dean and restricted him there. "You're welcome to watch though," Crowley mentioned as he walked back over to Will.

"Really, Dr. Lecter? How low are you?" Dean scolded. Hannibal managed twist his neck to look back at the Winchester.

"Are you saying you would not have attempted the same deal to save your brother, had the roles been reversed?" Hannibal asked. "Are you saying that you did not accompany me here for these same intentions?"

Dean just looked away and grumbled. "Whatever. Doesn't matter anymore."

Hannibal grimaced when a distressed hiss slipped through Will's lips as Crowley dug a serrated blade across the man's chest. "You know, Dean, we could really use your blue-eyed angel right now." Hannibal mentioned. Dean's eyes lit up at the idea and he nodded. Hannibal watched as the younger man closed his eyes for a few moments. He appeared to be muttering something under his breath that Hannibal could not hear.

As if on cue, there was the sound of strong winds, and Hannibal looked up to see an irritated Cas standing before him.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed. "Listen, I need you to-"

Before the Winchester had a chance to explain the situation, Hannibal saw the angel reach his two fingers out to him once again. Briefly he heard Dean yell out to Cas that Hannibal "isn't the one you have to kill," and to "stop", but Hannibal's racing heartbeat seemed to drown out the sound. For the first time in quite a while, he felt true fear brewing in the pit of his stomach. He never used to fear anyone, but knowing what these unnatural beings are capable of, Hannibal was scared for his life. The angel continued and pushed against the center of Hannibal's forehead. Almost instantly, Hannibal's world cut to darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"What the hell, Cas?! I said that's not the guy anymore!" Dean looked up from Dr. Lecter's lifeless body and stared angrily at Castiel. The angel's blue eyes were apologetic, so Dean's gaze softened slightly.

"I didn't know," Cas explained. "When I last saw you, you were tied up by the man and your brother was injured in the corner of the room. So when I appeared here, I saw a similar situation and assumed that the foreign man was still the enemy. I'm sorry, Dean." Cas hung his head and averted his gaze.

"This just keeps getting better and better," Crowley laughed. Dean watched as Cas whipped his head around, finally recognizing the demon in the room. _He must not have checked the house before appearing here_, Dean thought, _he just came as soon as he could because I asked for help_. Castiel's eyes widened as he began to understand the entire scenario. Dean saw a flash of reflected light as the silver angel blade slipped out from the trench coat sleeve.

"No, allow me," Crowley stated when he saw the weapon. Now with Cas aware of his presence, it would be a lot more difficult to banish him or push him against the wall. He would be ready for the attack, unlike when they were at Dr. Lecter's where he was able to use the element of surprise. "This whole situation is a little too close for comfort. Don't worry about the deal, however, because I can assure you that I will finish later." Crowley snapped his fingers and vanished from the room. The pressure holding Dean the wall released him and he was dropped onto his feet. Dean felt like he could finally breathe again. _Unlike Dr. Lecter_, he realized.

"Cas," Dean called out and beckoned to the psychiatrist. _I want him dead, but not yet. Still gotta cancel that damn deal. Sure, Crowley is gone now, but he promised he would return to take Sammy back, and the one thing I know about Crowley is that he never breaks his deals_. Castiel got the hint and bent down over the man. He pressed the palm of his hand onto Dr. Lecter's head and the man was filled with life once again. He inhaled a deep, uncertain breath as his dark brown eyes flickered around the room. The man looked terrified for a moment, but upon realizing that it was only Dean and Cas, went back to an emotionless expression and stood up.

"Mhmm," a low moan sounded from the room and realization sparked in Dean.

"Sam!" he exclaimed. His brother was still hunched in the corner of the room. He was quite pale from loss of blood, but the wound wasn't spilling out too much anymore. "Cas, come fix Sammy!" Dean called out. Within milliseconds, Castiel was kneeling next to Sam. He placed his hand on him and the large gash had disappeared. The color returned to Sam's face and his energy was back. He looked up at Cas and yanked against the chains on his wrists. The angel sighed and easily pulled the metal apart. Dean smiled. Even though it wasn't nearly over, everything seemed to be okay for these few moments. He had his little brother and his best friend right beside him and they were safe, at least for now. Only when Castiel turned to face the opposite side of the room was Dean reminded that they weren't alone.

Dr. Lecter was staring, which would be considered rude by his standards. Dean looked up into his eyes and was struck with a familiar pain. _I wonder how far gone he was_, Dean thought. _He sure wasn't on his way to heaven, I know that much. How long did it feel like to him? If four months in Hell felt like forty years for me, how long is about ten minutes?_

oOo

Hannibal was dead. He was sure of that. At first he thought that he was just rendered unconscious by the angel, but then he found himself standing alone in a dark, musky cave. His heart seemed to be pounding out of his chest, but he tried to stay calm. He didn't dare to move around. Before long, he was approached by a man slightly taller than him with messy blond hair and pale eyes. His skin looked like it was ripping apart.

"Welcome to Hell, Hannibal Lecter," the man said. "I decided to remain in my vessel, my true form would be too overbearing and my voice would be too piercing for you to understand."

Hannibal didn't reply. It was rather rude of him, but he didn't think that it really mattered anymore.

"Hm. Well allow me to introduce myself," the man held out a hand. "I'm Lucifer, a good friend of the Winchesters." He stated with a laugh.

Hannibal swallowed, reluctant to shake hands with the Devil. He took a few breaths to calm his nerves, desperately trying to regain control of his emotions. He reached out a shaky arm and quickly met Lucifer's hand before pulling away again. Lucifer just laughed at his cowardice.

"I think you know why you're here. The problem is that you were almost sent to Purgatory since you seem to be in the beginning stages of your transformation," Lucifer said as he began to slowly walk around Hannibal.

Hannibal furrowed his brow. _Transformation?_ He tried to think of a logical reason on why he would be transforming into something, but nothing came to mind. He shrugged it off. It didn't make a difference; he was in Hell now and would forever spend eternity here.

"Now we just have to decide what to do with you," Lucifer mentioned as he stepped closer to Hannibal. He was now a mere foot and a half away. "We could keep you down in this cellar and send in cruel imposters of everyone you care about like we did with Bobby Singer, but something tells me that you don't care about many people. We could make you wait in line forever, but you seem like a patient man so it wouldn't be that miserable for you. We could go Dean's route and string you up on meat hooks, torturing you endlessly. Or we could recreate Sam's punishment and set you on fire for all of eternity. Hmm, so many options."

_So this is it,_ Hannibal thought. _This is how it's going to be forever, constant suffering and torment_. Hannibal had never thought that there was something more after someone died. He considered death to be a release, and he took comfort in knowing that. Had he known what would be waiting for him after death, he might have chosen a different lifestyle. _Maybe_. He still didn't quite understand. He always thought he was doing a beautiful thing, ridding the world of all the wicked. If anyone, it should be the Devil who understands his concepts.

"You know what?" Lucifer asked. Hannibal looked up into his eyes. "I'll let you pick. Would you like to be set on fire or tortured in different ways while hanging on meat hooks?" He laughed.

Hannibal averted his gaze from the man. At least he got to choose how he wanted to suffer for all of eternity. _Maybe I will get used to the constant burning sensation after a few hundred years_, Hannibal considered. _It is better than being ripped apart by a different method of abuse every day. I cannot adapt if the pain is not constant._ Hannibal cleared his throat. "I would prefer to be on fire," he said.

"Good choice," Lucifer laughed. "So let's go get you some meat hooks." The man grinned at Hannibal and vanished.

Hannibal should've known that he would be betrayed. I mean, this was the _Devil._ Of course he was going to pick whatever would be more miserable for Hannibal. Everything was happening too fast, Hannibal's mind wasn't as focused as it usually was, and he wasn't thinking everything through.

Just as quickly as Lucifer had disappeared, he was back with six large metal hooks. "I'll put the hooks in you now, then I'll take you to the big web of chains and string you up," Lucifer explained, stepping closer.

Hannibal backed away slightly, but he knew that there was nowhere to go. Still, it wouldn't stop him from trying. He wasn't one who gave up control easily. However, in the time that it took for Hannibal to blink, Lucifer was already directly in front of him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. Hannibal squirmed, but the man was inhumanly strong so Hannibal couldn't escape his grasp.

"Hm," Lucifer looked down at Hannibal. He was only an inch or two taller, but his ego towered over the mortal. "I thought you would cooperate, but I guess I was wrong. Let's strap you down then," he said.

Hannibal felt a rush of air and he instantly found himself in a new setting. It was still dark, he figured all of Hell would be, but he was tied down to a slightly angled table. He had strong leather bonds holding down his waist, ankles, and the part of his arm right below the elbow. He was restricted from all movement. Lucifer loomed over him, holding a thick hook to Hannibal's right shoulder.

"Don't worry, Hannibal Lecter," he said, beginning to dig the sharp tip into the flesh. "I mean, it's going to hurt a lot but… well… yeah there's no upside to this. It's just going to hurt." He smiled and forced the hook through Hannibal's body.

Hannibal was immediately filled with an excruciating, burning pain. He felt the metal slide deeper into his shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle. He sensed a scream bubbling up within his throat, but he managed to stifle it. His warm blood seeped through his expensive suit. His breathing was reduced to short, painful gasps as Lucifer strode to the other side and shoved another hook into his left ribcage. Hannibal squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would be over soon.

The third hook tore through Hannibal's lower calf, and another went through the opposite thigh. The final two ripped their way through each of his wrists.

"There we go," Lucifer stated happily. "All done. Now we just gotta get you hanging. I figure since it's your first day, you've been through a lot. We'll start your daily tortures tomorrow."

Hannibal found that he couldn't utter a word if he tried. All that came out was a low whimper. Every movement he made caused a muscle to grind up against one of the hooks. Lucifer stepped over to him and placed his hand over the shoulder that wasn't pierced. Almost instantly, Hannibal was filled with a rough heat as the hooks were being pulled at. He opened his eyes to find that he was now outdoors, but there was no ground as far as he could see. The sky was a dark, swampy green. Each hook inserted in him was attached to a different chain in the air. His own weight pulled down on the hooks, causing his skin to stretch out and tear. He was gasping, desperate for air. Lucifer was nowhere in sight. Hannibal was alone.

He didn't even know when his next torture was going to take place. Yes, he was told that it would be tomorrow, but there was no sun here. Nothing to judge the time of day by. Hannibal felt completely powerless. He craved control; he needed to be able to have dominance over at least one factor of his new world. So he began to count. If he could at least grasp the concept of time here, he would feel some sense of stability. Hannibal was left to count for sixteen hours before a bright light caused his soul to collide with his physical body once again.

Hannibal squinted against the new light of the room. Once his eyes adjusted, he found that they were still in Will Graham's living room. Dean and Cas were looking down at him. Hating the feeling of being underneath them, he stood up abruptly and looked around. Will was still bloody and tied to the table. Sam was still injured in the corner. However, Crowley seemed to be gone. _How much time had passed?_ He thought. He was no longer in pain, there were no hooks protruding from his body and there was not a single cut. Hannibal watched in silence as Dean and Cas mumbled to each other and walked over to Sam. It wasn't even surprising anymore to see the angel heal and release Sam. Hannibal instead found that he respected the angel. Cas had saved him from an eternity of damnation.

The angel turned away from Sam to look at Hannibal. Dean then did the same. Hannibal looked silently back at Dean and saw his own agony reflected in the younger man's eyes. Hannibal finally understood some of the pain he saw before that was hidden behind Dean's tough exterior. Hannibal felt it too.


	10. Chapter 10

** I don't know where I'm going with this. I wasn't really planning on continuing past chapter four. Sorry.**

Chapter Ten

Hannibal pulled away from Dean's gaze and turned towards Will. He seemed to be barely conscious, still tied up against the table, pale and bloody. Hannibal slowly approached the table, almost afraid of Will's reaction. His patient's eyes were closed, but his pulse was present and the tips of his fingers still quivered against the wooden surface. Hannibal cleared his throat and looked over to the three men on the other side of the room.

"Would you be willing to heal my patient?" He asked quietly. Cas looked over to Dean, as if he was waiting for approval. The Winchester seemed reluctant, but he nodded. Hannibal backed away as the angel walked over to the table and peered down at Will. He rested his palm on Will's forehead just as he had done with Sam. Instantly, Will's eyes were open and all wounds were closed back up.

_Did the angel heal… everything?_ Hannibal wondered. When Cas broke the bonds that held Will to the table, Hannibal saw his opportunity. Will slid off the surface and his feet shakily stood on solid ground. Hannibal stepped closer and placed his hands on his patient's shoulders in order to appear to be helping to steady him, while simultaneously leaning into him and inhaling slightly. To Hannibal's dismay, the sweet aroma of encephalitis was gone. _Will is no good to me like this,_ Hannibal realized, _he's no longer interesting. I will have to get it back. _

Will regained balance but before he could speak, Hannibal stopped him. "Do not say anything," he ordered. "You need rest. I will explain all that I am able to in a little while." He guided Will over to one of the chairs by the window. For a single, antisocial man who lives alone, Will sure had a lot of chairs. Once Will was silently seated, Hannibal walked cautiously over to Cas. He looked back once more to make sure he was out of earshot before leaning in to whisper to the angel.

"You see, Will needs a source of stability. Since he has been seeing me as his psychiatrist, he has begun to recognize both his self and I as that source. If you cure his encephalitis all at once, his mental health will be shaken and he will not feel comfortable in his own skin. I know of ways where I would be able to heal him a little at a time to where he may adapt to the changes and continue on with his life as usual." Hannibal said this with complete honesty. Yes, he knew of ways to reduce the inflammation in Will's brain that was causing the encephalitis. However, he refrained from mentioning that he had no intention to do so.

Cas stood quietly across from him, eyes narrow with his head tilted to one side. When he didn't intervene, Hannibal continued. "So, if you would so kindly just… return the inflammation back to my patient's brain, it would be appreciated. Then I would be able to cure him at a slower and safer pace."

Cas stared back at Hannibal with his icy blue eyes. "How can I trust that you're being honest with me?" The angel asked.

"Because I am still a psychiatrist and I want what is best for my patient. I clearly value his life, or else I would not have put myself in this situation in order to insure his safety," Hannibal replied.

Cas glared at Hannibal for a few more moment. Hannibal did not give in, but instead stepped closer and stared back. He was only a few inches taller than the angel, but every little bit helped. He was well aware of the fact that Cas could easily kill him, but Hannibal knew that he wouldn't. They still need him.

"Fine." Cas sighed at last. He stepped back over to Will and touched his head once more. Hannibal followed closely behind and soon the sweet aroma of mental illness filled his senses. Hannibal smiled.

"Thank you."

"Alright, enough," Dean commanded. "We need a better plan if we're gonna get Crowley to revoke his deal." Dean walked to the center of the room where Hannibal and Cas stood. Sam was following just one step behind.

"The last time we were in a similar situation was when we needed to get Bobby's soul back," Sam said. "And we threatened to burn Crowley's bones. Now we need something else to hold over his head."

This was all nonsense to Hannibal. Selling souls and burning bones was out of his league. The only person in the room that was more confused than him was Will, who sat silently in his chair, squinting at the men while desperately trying to understand. Hannibal didn't mean for all of this to happen. He was a simple man who was just trying to rid the world of some rude men and get a decent meal out of it. How was he supposed to know that his dinner guests were some hunters of paranormal beings? Hannibal exhaled and sat down in the chair next to Will's. He crossed one leg over the other and sat back, hoping that this would all be over soon.

oOo

Dean shifted his weight between his feet as he stood next to his brother and Cas, hoping that an idea would spark in his mind. When nothing came, he just sighed.

"Well until we think of something that Crowley will want in exchange for getting rid the deal, I say we should prepare," Dean suggested.

"Prepare for what? We don't even know what we're planning on doing yet," Sam said.

Dean nodded over towards Dr. Lecter and his patient. "Well whatever we're gonna do, we're gonna need them. We need the doctor to cancel the deal, and we need to keep the crazy guy out of Crowley's hands." Dean heard Dr. Lecter huff at the term 'crazy' but he brushed it off. Will Graham didn't seem to be offended by it. In fact, he didn't show any emotion besides complete confusion. Dean figured he could explain it later.

"So… what're you thinking? Anti-possession tattoos?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. The last thing we need is Crowley or one of his demons to take over their vessels. Cas, can you get the stuff?" Dean turned to the angel, who nodded and was instantly gone from the room. Tattoo parlors take too long and ask too many questions, so Dean preferred to do it himself.

"Excuse me," Dr. Lecter stood up from his chair, frowning at Dean. "Are you suggesting that Will and I get a permanent tattoo?" The doctor clearly wasn't happy with the idea. Dean was prepared to snap back at him since the man clearly didn't understand the risk of not having one when working this kind of job. However, before Dean could speak, Sam calmly interrupted.

"Yes, actually," he said. "Now before you reject it, please try and understand the dangers that could result if a demon possessed your body. It would be a small mark anyway," Sam pulled down the collar of his shirt to show his pentagram symbol. Dr. Lecter immediately grimaced at the design.

"Oh grow up," Dean muttered. 's eyes narrowed at Dean but he didn't say anything.

"Are you ready?"

Dean turned to see that Castiel had returned just as quickly as he had left. He had the handheld tattoo gun already filled with a black ink. Surprisingly, Dr. Lecter stepped forward.

"I suppose so. Will?" Dr. Lecter turned to face his patient.

"Oh… What?"

Dean growled under his breath. The situation was bad enough, he didn't need some mentally insane guy around who wasn't going to listen to directions and pay attention. Dean felt like knocking some sense into Will. He refrained when he saw the doctor slowly walk over and kneel down on one side of the chair that Will was sitting on.

"Will, I shall explain everything to you later, I promise. But right now I'm going to have to ask you to trust me and get this small tattoo. Today I have found that many things exist that I thought were myths. We will be in a dangerous position if you do not get this symbol with me. Do you believe me, Will?" Dr. Lecter was calm and spoke at a soft volume. Probably a better approach than the one Dean was contemplating. Dean had to admit, the doctor may very well be a psychopathic serial killer, but he was a pretty decent psychiatrist.

Will swallowed and small beads of sweat were beginning to form at his hairline. He was quiet for a few moments, but he then nodded shakily. Dr. Lecter smiled and stood up to face Dean once again.

"We are ready."

ooo

Dean sat back and rested the tattoo gun on the bookcase underneath the window. He used a damp towel to wipe away the excess ink from Will's chest and looked back at his work. It wasn't perfect since Dean wasn't necessarily a professional tattoo artist, but it would suffice. He had drawn and painted the symbol enough times to know exactly what it was supposed to look like, and the outcome was pretty close. So what if it's a little crooked, Sam's kinda is too.

Will's face was slightly red and he had been clutching the recliner's cushion the entire time, but he held up well for getting his first tattoo. It clearly did not hurt as badly as what Crowley had been doing to him. , who Will had insisted go first, had done better. Besides tensing up a little when the needle first broke skin, the man was completely motionless. Now he was standing next to the chair, eagerly putting his suit back on to cover up the ink. _He's such a child, _Dean thought. _He doesn't get his way so he goes and pouts. Whatever._

"So… now what?" Sam's question dragged Dean out of his thoughts. Dean just shrugged. In any other situation, he would've summoned Crowley and taken his chances, but maybe Dr. Lecter was right before when he said that negotiation would work better than getting on Crowley's bad side. But Dean wasn't really good with cooperation and acting friendly around demons. He looked over to the others to see if they had any ideas. Of course Will didn't have any, he still didn't understand what the hell was going on so he just sat on the recliner while scratching at the bandages over his new tattoo. Dr. Lecter sat in the opposite chair. Though the man seemed to be calm and emotionless, Dean could tell he was still shaken up from when he was presumably in Hell. Sam looked just as clueless as Dean was. Cas, however, seemed to have some idea of what to do next.

"Crowley has the ability to send an army of demons to this very room if he wants to. We are not completely safe here, so I recommend we move to a destination warded against all demons. Perhaps it would be best to not be detected by him so that he will not appear when we don't expect him,"Castiel suggested.

"So are you thinking the Men-Of-Letter's Bunker?" Dean asked in reply. Cas nodded. Dean looked over to his brother in case he had an objection to the idea, but Sam showed no signs of disapproval. "Okay, I guess we have no reason not to. It could only help to keep us off Crowley's radar." _Except that it means I'll have to spend about 21 hours in a car with Dr. Lecter again. And this time he'll have his unstable patient with him_, Dean realized. _Maybe with Sammy in the car, it won't be so bad. _

"I will meet you guys there," Cas stated and without any other warning, disappeared from the room.

"Well," Dean began as he turned towards Dr. Lecter and Will. "Let's go."

Dr. Lecter stood up and straightened his jacket. "Where are we headed?" He asked as he beckoned for Will to stand up as well.

"Kansas," Dean replied simply. This, as predicted, didn't settle well with the two guests.

"You expect me to cancel my appointments for tomorrow and all social plans that I have scheduled so that I can go to Kansas with two men who want me dead?" Dr. Lecter argued.

"A-and I have my dogs to feed, and Jack is going to need me at crime scenes, and-" Will was fumbling for words. He was still unaware of the entire situation. Dean didn't necessarily blame him for not wanting to drop everything and leave for an unknown reason with complete strangers.

"Listen," Sam tried to explain calmly. "You'll be much safer there, I promise. You're going to have to trust me on this one."

Dr. Lecter just huffed. He clearly disapproved of the idea.

"You saw what Crowley is capable of," Dean persuaded. "He can easily appear here and kill your patient within seconds. We have a place in Kansas that is completely demon-proof. He won't be able to reach you there."

The psychiatrist sighed. He reluctantly turned to Will. "Why don't you call Ms. Bloom and ask her to keep an eye on your dogs for a little while?" He asked, unsuccessfully trying to lock eyes with his patient.

Will was starting to shake. The weight of everything that happened to him on this night seemed to be eating away at him. He couldn't understand anything of what was going on. "I-I don't know-" he stuttered.

Dean unconsciously took a step back. Monsters he could handle, but humans were just plain weird. He hoped they would hurry. Every second they wasted was an opportunity for Crowley to appear and take Sam away. He cleared his throat, hoping to rush the conversation.

"Will, I am going to explain everything to you in the car. It is a long car ride so I won't leave any details out. I assure you that leaving is safer than staying here," Dr. Lecter said. Will was quiet for a few moments, looking unsure and scared. "I know this is a lot to ask of you," the doctor continued, "but I promise you will be okay." Will reluctantly nodded his approval.

"Okay good now why don't you hurry and call that girl so we can leave," Dean pushed.

"And Will, you might want to… you know… put some pants on," Sam mentioned quietly. The unstable man nodded and left the room.

Dean walked over to and stuck out his hand expectantly. "My turn to drive," he stated. "Give me my keys _now_."

The psychiatrist just smiled. "Your impala is still in Baltimore," he said simply.

Dean growled under his breath. They hadn't even started the real job yet and his new ally was already acting like a little bitch.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Hannibal shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He once again felt out of control. With Dean insisting on driving Hannibal's car, he sat in the passenger's seat with Sam and Will behind him on the bench seat. The Winchester could be taking them anywhere in the world, and Hannibal would have no control over it.

"Can you explain now?" Will's voice sounded weak.

Hannibal started to shift and turn his body to face Will to the best of his ability, but thought better of it. He probably wouldn't want to see the look of betrayal on his patients face. "I did promise, didn't I? Well, after you left my house once dinner was over, the Winchester's realized they left their keys in my house," Hannibal began, careful to leave some details out. This caused Dean to scoff, but he didn't say anything. So Hannibal continued. "When they were inside, Crowley, the man that was torturing you, appeared to me. He offered me a deal. In that deal, he said he would want Sam Winchester in return." Hannibal refrained from revealing his half of the bargain.

"And you accepted it?" Will asked.

"If you imagine the position I was in," explained Hannibal, "then you can understand that I was willing to agree to anything to get the strange man out of my house."

Hannibal thought he was doing pretty well so far. Now for the hard part. "Now you can thank Dean for having Crowley go after you," Hannibal said.

"Hey you deserved it!" Dean argued. "You gave Sam to him!"

"But why did Crowley have to kill anyone at all?" Will stated the question as if it were an accusation. Hannibal felt like he was suffocating in the small car. Good thing it's still dark outside. However, Hannibal is a very good liar, so he took a deep breath and began again.

"I was then informed by these two brothers that he is a demon. The King of Hell, to be precise. I'm not quite sure how all of his rituals go, I know very little more than you do," he said.

"I could fill in the gaps for you," Dean laughed from beside him.

"That's quite all right for now," Hannibal quickly intervened. "Now Will, all I know is that Crowley wants you dead and he is a very powerful force. Apparently the tattoos we got will restrict any demons from possessing us. Dean is driving us to a location where Crowley will not be able to find us. The man in the trench coat is an angel named 'Cas'. That's about everything that I know. I'm sorry that you got pulled into this."

Will sighed. "I guess it's okay."

Hannibal was shocked. He didn't expect Will to accept it so easily. "You believe me?" He asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I mean, I have no reason not to… right?"

"Of course not, you can always trust me, Will. I am your friend." Hannibal assured and sat back in relief. He saw Dean shoot him a disapproving look, but thankfully, he didn't give anything away. Sam seemed to be quiet as well, though Hannibal knew that he wasn't happy with his explanation to Will.

The conversation died off, and the only sound left was the low hum of the engine. Apparently Dean didn't like that, because he soon found a radio station that he approved of and blared Bon Jovi as loud as the speakers could go. Hannibal cringed at the unnecessary noise and he craned his neck to see that Will had also coiled up in his seat. Sam seemed disturbed, but he was probably used to it.

Hannibal closed his eyes and tried to focus on something else. The second his eyelids closed, however, a painfully sharp image of chains in a green sky ripped at his subconscious. He could almost feel his skin being stretched and ripped apart by the strong metal hooks. He tried to yell but no sound came out. Every movement he made rattled the chains and they pulled harder at the muscles that they pierced.

Hannibal's eyes shot open and he jumped up in his seat, only to be restricted by the safety belt. As he breathed heavily, hands tightly grasping the armrests, he could feel everyone's eyes burn into him. Beads of sweat were forming at the top of his forehead. He reluctantly turned around in his seat. Sam looked genuinely confused and Will looked worried. As he spun back to face forward, his eyes locked with Dean's. Unlike the others, Dean didn't look confused. He _knew_. Hannibal quickly averted his gaze and looked out the window. Luckily, no one asked any questions.

A couple hours passed by slowly. Hannibal feared going to sleep.

"Hello boys,"

Everyone in the car tensed up. In the bench seat between Will and Sam, Crowley sat with a devilish grin. Hannibal turned slightly to look at Dean, hoping that the hunter had an idea. The man's green eyes flicked from the steering wheel back to Hannibal. On his left hand, out of Crowley's view, he held up three fingers. Hannibal nodded slightly. The fingers slowly disappeared one at a time and he saw a flash of metal as Dean pulled the demon blade out from his coat. Hannibal reached over and grasped the wheel, keeping it steady while Dean whipped around and lunged towards Crowley.

"Thank you," The demon stated gruffly, his hand instantly shooting out and grabbing Dean's wrist. With a sickening crack, he twisted Dean's hand, causing the blade to drop. Dean grunted in pain, and Hannibal took a moment to look away from the road and peer into the back seat. He saw Sam attempt to grab the blade, but by then the demon already had it. "I don't really need you boys hunting me down and killing me with this thing. It's not really convenient with my current schedule. Now, I'll be back for you two later," Crowley said to Sam and Will. Within a millisecond, he snapped his fingers and was gone from the car.

"Damn it!" Dean yelled out as he pulled himself back into the driver's seat. Once he had his good hand back on the wheel, Hannibal pulled away. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?!" Dean ranted angrily.

"I don't know Dean, can we just get to the bunker before he comes back?" Sam asked, still trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah whatever," Dean muttered.

Hannibal turned to face Will. "Are you alright?" Will was pale and his eyes expressed terror, but he seemed unharmed. Hannibal just nodded to him and turned back around. He looked over to Dean. "Let me see your wrist."

"What? No."

"Dean, I worked in the medical field for many years before becoming a psychiatrist. Please, let me see your wrist," Hannibal said softly.

Dean mumbled but eventually held his wrist out to him. The bone was jutting out at a weird angle and his hand hung limply.

"It's broken," Hannibal confirmed.

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean snapped, pulling his wrist back.

"Come on, Dean, that's not necessary," Sam scolded from the back seat. Hannibal just brushed it off. He could understand the younger man's anger. It seemed that Crowley had taken their only means of killing him, so they were now vulnerable and lacked control over the situation. Hannibal clenched his teeth and looked back out the window. The sun was beginning to appear over the horizon, turning the sky a deep purple color. This had by far been the worst day of Hannibal's life, and he knew that it wasn't going to get much better.

oOo

"Dean?"

Dr. Lecter startled Dean, who had begun to doze at the wheel. They had been on the road for about 17 hours so far, and to be honest, Dean was tired. Usually he could handle going days without sleep, but the events and stress of the day combined with the pills that Dr. Lecter had him take to temporarily relieve his wrist pain was making him pretty tired.

"Hm?" He grunted quietly.

"Would you like me to drive for a short time so you can rest?" Dr. Lecter asked. "That is, assuming we stay along this same road for a while."

Rest sounded nice to Dean. It was tempting, but he wasn't the kind of person to give up easily. "What? No. No I'm alright to keep going," Dean replied.

Dr. Lecter was persistent. "I would strongly recommend that you allow me to drive. The last thing we need right now is for you to fall asleep while driving and crash."

Dean blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake. "I'm fine. I just need some music to keep me up," he stated and reached out a hand to mess with the radio again. However, when his fingers stretched out to hit the volume dial, he found that Dr. Lecter's hand was already there, covering it up. Dean gazed at him in confusion, but the doctor just beckoned to the back seat. Dean looked into the mirror to see into the backseat, only to find Will Graham fast asleep. Sweaty, but asleep. He saw that Sam also had his eyes closed, bordering on consciousness. Not quite sleeping yet, but definitely close. Dean nodded to the doctor and looked back to the road.

"Dean?" Dr. Lecter said again.

"What?" he mumbled in reply.

"How long were you… in Hell?"

Dean's assumption was right. Dr. Hannibal Lecter really did go to Hell, even if it were only for about 10 minutes. "Four months in our time. It felt like 40 years down there," Dean said softly. "What about you? How long did it feel like it lasted?"

Dr. Lecter's dark eyes were on Dean, he could feel it. "I counted up to sixteen hours. Then when I was brought back, I found that I was only there for a matter of minutes." Dr. Lecter replied.

Dean didn't comment. He wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I had a choice, you know." The doctor continued.

"What?"

"I was told to choose my punishment. I could either experience what you went through, or what your brother had to. I chose Sam's, however Lucifer twisted it and I was pierced with large hooks and strung up on chains. Like you were." Dr. Lecter explained.

Dean felt strangely responsible. He pushed the feeling away and looked at the man for a short moment before turning back to the road. The doctor's eyes revealed emotional scars. He was hiding them better than expected and Dean doubted that anyone else would notice them unless they knew what to look for. But for Dr. Lecter, who just yesterday refused to believe that this whole other world existed, only to be put in Hell today, the experience was especially painful. Dean could understand that.

"Does it get any better?" Dr. Lecter asked.

Dean almost laughed. "Honestly? No," he replied. "No it doesn't. You just learn to hide it better over time." Dean heard the psychiatrist sigh in disappointment. He looked over to him. "Hey, what was Sam's punishment?" Dean asked, afraid of what the answer would be.

"You don't need to know." Sam scolded.

_Damn_. Dean knew he should've waited until Sam was completely asleep. But now his brother was wide awake, sitting up in his seat with a pained expression on his face.

"Okay," Dean reluctantly agreed. "Fine. I guess that's not our main problem right now anyway. We should be trying to find another way to kill Crowley."

The car was silent a moment. Eventually, Dean noticed that Dr. Lecter had turned in his seat and was staring at him curiously. Dean raised an eyebrow, provoking the man to spill whatever he had on his mind.

"You said that Crowley, as a demon, can possess vessels, correct?" The doctor questioned. Dean nodded and the man continued. "Does he possess a vessel at this very moment?"

"Well yeah, he's inside that scruffy Scottish dude. If he wasn't, he'd just be this black smoke floating around," Dean explained.

"Alright, and is there a way trap him so that he cannot leave his vessel?" Dr. Lecter asked.

"Um, yes," Sam replied. "We could sit him in a devil's trap to keep his entire vessel from leaving, and saying the exorcism rites in reverse can send the demon back into the body. Plus there's a certain sigil that can be carved into the vessel that would restrict him from smoking out at all. Why?"

"I think I have an idea," Dr. Lecter said with a smile.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

"Well," Hannibal began, but before he could continue, he was silenced.

"Wait," Dean demanded. "If this is actually a logical plan, and that's a pretty big 'if', then maybe we should wait until we get there. Then we know for sure that Crowley won't be listening. If he knows our plan then he'll find a way to avoid it."

Though Hannibal hated the fact that he was interrupted, he had to admit that the man had a point.

"How much longer until we're there?" Sam asked from the back seat.

"About an hour or two," Dean replied. "But I think we should stop for food first."

"No."

Hannibal turned around in his seat when he heard Will's protest. He wasn't aware that his patient was awake yet. Hannibal shot a curious expression, silently urging him to explain.

"What?" Dean asked angrily, glaring at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"I-I'm sorry but if I'm really in that much danger, and that demon guy can appear in here whenever he wants to, I'd kinda like to make sure I'm in a safe place before we worry about food. The more time we waste on the road increases Crowley's opportunities to attack," Will explained.

Hannibal gave a slight smile; one not noticeable unless someone was looking for it. "I believe my patient is right," he agreed. "You may go back out for a meal once you drop us off."

Dean groaned in disapproval. "Whatever."

The conversation died away and the car traveled in silence. The few hours passed by peacefully and by the time they pulled to the side of a forested road, the sun was directly above them in the sky. Hannibal followed the Winchester's out of the car and they approached a brick-paved arc plastered in the side of a dirt hill. He heard Will following behind him. He watched Dean pull out a key and open the heavy doors. When Hannibal peeked through, he saw that it was a lot bigger inside than it appeared. It seemed to expand on for a long distance. Despite its size, however, once Hannibal walked in he was hit with an overwhelming scent of musk and mothballs. He crinkled his nose but in order to remain polite, he didn't complain.

"So this is somehow impenetrable to demons such as Crowley?" Hannibal asked.

"Yep," Dean assured. "Now that you guys are here, can we get food now?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah sure, go."

"What do you all want? I saw a gas station on the way here with a little store inside. I might've seen a fast food place too." Dean suggested, glancing around at everyone.

Hannibal visibly cringed at the thought of eating slop from a road-side grocery store. "Do you have any food here that I may cook with?" He asked desperately.

"Sorry, not unless you only need peanut butter, jelly and stale bread," Sam apologized.

"Then I'll pass," Hannibal declined politely.

"Nope," Dean said. "You gotta eat something. Honestly, I don't care if you want to starve and be miserable, but I don't know how long we have to stay here and frankly, if you're dead, you're no good to me. Now state any preference you have or you're eating whatever I end up buying."

Hannibal bit his tongue and took a deep breath. As much as he despised the idea of eating that repulsive food, he had to admit that he was hungry. "Fine," he hissed. "Find something that isn't expired or rotten, which I assume will be hard to find in a gas station."

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. "And you two?" He looked to Sam and Will.

"Any salad they have is fine with me," Sam replied.

"I guess a sandwich or something," Will mumbled.

"Okay," Dean said. He jingled the car keys in his hand and began to walk towards the door. "And Dr. Lecter, we'll all listen to your plan when we get back. Don't start without me."

Hannibal sighed and turned away as Dean exited. He turned to Will, who was wandering around and inspecting every inch of their temporary living space. Hannibal followed closely behind, hoping to find something interesting.

"So, our rooms are through that hall," Sam mentioned, motioning with his hand. "You can set up a bed or something to sleep on." He walked over to the table in the center of the room and sat down in one of the surrounding chairs.

"Sleep?" Hannibal asked. "How long are you planning on having us stay here? I thought that this was just a one day and night kind of situation."

Sam laughed. "Right. Well I'm almost positive that this will take a little while to sort out. I mean, this is the King of Hell that we're going up against and I guarantee that he's not gonna go down without a fight. Trust me, we've tried."

Hannibal walked over to the table and narrowed his eyes at the man. "Don't you think that would have been worth mentioning back when we were in Virginia? That way Will and I could have packed clothes and utilities that will most definitely be necessary?"

Sam just shrugged in reply. "I guess I didn't think about it. It was kind of a stressful time, in case you hadn't noticed. Which reminds me, I think you should share a room with either me or Dean."

"Excuse me?" Hannibal asked angrily.

"Listen, I didn't forget who you are and what you do," Sam stated. "I may have been drugged and bleeding out most of the time, but I could tell what was going on. If you think that I'm gonna leave you alone while we're all sleeping, then you've got another thing coming."

Hannibal looked behind him and to his relief, saw that Will was a quite a ways away, still roaming around. Hannibal stepped closer to Sam and lowered his voice so that Will wouldn't hear. "What reason would I have?" He asked. "Clearly I will not be able to get myself out of this problem on my own, and you two seem to be the only ones who understand what we're dealing with. I assure you, I have no intention to bring harm upon you or your brother."

Sam stood up in his chair and looked down at Hannibal. "I'd rather not take any chances."

Hannibal clenched his jaw and stared back up at Sam. "Well I don't necessarily want to room with a man who wants me dead either." He stated.

Sam smiled. "Fine. You can stay with Cas. Just a warning though, he doesn't sleep. He tends to just… watch."

Hannibal growled, but it was inaudible to anyone other than himself. Without replying, he briskly turned around and walked back over to Will.

"I want to go home," Will said without looking up from the dusty book that he'd plucked from the shelf.

Hannibal skimmed over the spines of the books, searching for a title or subject that sparked his interest. He glanced over at his patient. "I know, Will. I do too."

oOo

Dean grabbed the bag of groceries out of the back seat of the car and walked up the path to the bunker.

"Food's here," he called out as he walked in. Sam glanced up from his laptop screen and then pushed the computer away to make room on the table. Will walked over from the corner of the room and sat down at the table adjacent to Sam, while Dean sat on the other side of his brother. Dean watched in annoyance as Dr. Lecter reluctantly came and sat down next to Will.

Dean began to pass out their desired meals from the plastic bag. "A ham sandwich for Will," he listed off and handed the container to the man. "Rabbit food for Sam," he mocked, giving the salad to his brother. "And… whatever to Dr. Lecter." Dean handed the psychiatrist a bag of miscellaneous fruits and vegetables.

"Thank you," Dr. Lecter said. "By any chance do you have a stove and some cookware?"

"Um, yeah," Dean replied and pointed backwards towards the kitchen. "Good luck." The doctor nodded and left. Dean rolled his eyes and took out his own bacon burger and pie slice.

However, about halfway through the meal, Dean started to smell something amazing. _How the hell could he actually make decent food with just some old plants from a gas station? _He thought. He stood up and walked by the kitchen so that he could throw away some napkins and _maybe_ see what the doctor was cooking. When he saw that the doctor's torso was obstructing his view of the stove, he lingered for a few moments before walking back to his seat. Mere minutes later, Dr. Lecter walked in with a hot skillet of seemingly perfect cooked vegetables.

"Where did you get seasonings?" Dean asked when he noticed the colored flecks of flavor on the diced vegetables.

"I found that _someone_ shoved them in the back corner of the pantry in order to make room for boxed dinners and cereal," Dr. Lecter replied accusingly.

Dean just looked away. He didn't need this right now.

"Would anyone else like some?" The doctor asked. Dean wanted some. He _really_ did. But there's no way in hell that he's gonna give in to that man. However, to Dean's disappointment, Will and Sam both gratefully accepted. Dean huffed and sat back in his chair.

"Okay, if you're done distributing food, maybe we can get to business?" Dean asked. Dr. Lecter nodded and sat down in his seat. "Doctor, you said you had an idea that might work. It's doubtful, but we're out of ideas so you might as well tell us," Dean stated.

Dr. Lecter easily detected the sass in Dean's tone, but he replied anyway. "Since you can trap the smoke in the vessel and you can trap the vessel in a Devil's something or other, I wondered what would happen if we simply removed most of the vessel."

Dean blinked, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Dr. Lecter continued, "What if we trapped him in both ways and you allowed me to go inside of the trap with him? I could then cut off a part of the vessel, such as a hand or foot, and throw it out of the trap. I could continue to do this until there is just a small fraction of the vessel left for him to possess."

Dean took a moment to process this. "I think he would just possess the pieces, wouldn't he?" He wondered aloud.

"I would think so," Sam said, "however we might be able to scratch a quick pentagram into the pieces as well so he can't smoke out of each individual part. Crowley might not be dead because of it, but he certainly won't be able to do anything about it. He'll basically be powerless. We can dispose of the pieces in sealed boxes, all in a different location. I think it could actually work."

Dean sighed. He hated Dr. Lecter. He didn't want the man to be right about anything. But if somehow there was a way to render Crowley helpless, he would have to take that opportunity.

"Fine," Dean agreed. "Let's get rid of the King of Hell once and for all."

oOo

**Okay so I haven't memorized all the different spells and stuff for exorcising demons. This plan may or may not even be possible, so if you know of any ways that this plan wouldn't work, let me know and I'll try and fix it. Who knows, depending on how this story goes, it might not work anyway. **


	13. Chapter 13

** Okay well this chapter is kinda short and not very good, but I haven't updated in a while and I thought you guys deserved **_**something**_** until I was finished writing a more eventful chapter. **

Chapter Thirteen

Hannibal smiled. He enjoyed being right. It was even more pleasing to him knowing that Dean seemed to be hunting demons for a long portion of his life, and Hannibal was able to come up with a better plan within a few hours after learning of their existence.

"But," Sam said, "This isn't going to be a quick process. It's going to take some time to set everything up."

Will walked closer to the group. "What if something goes wrong? Is there a backup plan?"

The Winchester's just shrugged. Hannibal could tell that they weren't the kind of people who really thought things through. They probably act on impulse often. "Perhaps we should think of all the possible ways Crowley could escape and disprove those. We will find possibilities in which he could gain the upper hand in the situation and take the precautions in order to prevent them," Hannibal suggested.

Dean rolled his eyes, clearly unhappy with hearing Hannibal's input. Sam however, seemed open to the idea. "Yeah that would work," he agreed. "But before we can even begin with how to deal with him, we need to be able to get him. We need supplies in order to perform the summoning ritual. Dean, can you get Cas to pick up some stuff?"

Dean nodded in reply. "On one condition."

"What?" Sam asked. "There are no conditions, Dean, this has to be done one way or another. It'd really help if Cas was in on it."

Dean smiled. "I'll get Cas, on the condition that it's 's blood we use in the ritual."

Hannibal perked up at the sound of his name. _Is this some kind of human sacrifice_? He wondered. He looked over to Sam for assistance, but he saw that the large man was just annoyed.

"Come on, Dean. Does it really matter?" Sam asked. "It's just a small amount of blood, what's the point?"

"Because," Dean whined. "This man has been nothing but a little bitch all day. The least he could do is let me cause him some pain by cutting his arm."

Hannibal sighed and stepped forward. This was not worth the effort that the two were putting into it. "Fine," he stated. "I'll give my own blood. Now may we continue forth and deal with more important matters?"

Dean smiled. "Yep. I'll go get Cas," he said and he walked back away from the group.

"Sorry," Sam apologized once his brother was out of earshot.

Hannibal just nodded. It didn't really matter to him. This was the least offensive thing that Dean has done to him. "Is there anything I can help with to prepare for the ritual?"

Sam thought a moment. "You don't really know where anything is here, you'd probably just get lost. It's only some candles and herbs and stuff. I'll get it. Castiel can get some of the more difficult things to find."

"I have them."

Hannibal turned to see the angel standing with a bag in his hand. Dean was a few steps behind him, smiling with content.

"Oh, that's great," Sam said, taking the bag. "We'll get this set up and then we'll start taking the precautions to avoid Crowley's escape. Dr. Lecter, I guess you can just wander around a little while."

Hannibal nodded. Honestly, he was happy that he wasn't asked to help. That would just increase the chances of him messing something up. Besides, now he could wander around and explore to find out more about the Winchester brothers. _Sam said the bedrooms were just down this hall…_ Hannibal recalled. He peered behind him once more and found that the brothers and their angel were busy playing with the items Castiel had brought. Hannibal took this opportunity to walk briskly down towards the bedrooms.

The first room he entered felt unwelcoming. It was the same dull gray color scheme as the rest of the house and the only possessions within it were files and books along the shelves. There was a large TV, but other than that, the room appeared to have the same attire as when it was built which, judging by the décor, was quite a long time ago. Hannibal poked around a little, but found nothing of interest. It seemed like more of a work office than a bedroom.

Hannibal went into the other room slightly farther down the hall. He knew immediately that this was Dean's room. It had a completely different atmosphere. He had customized it with many weapons hanging on the walls and even had some feminine magazines lying around. Hannibal grimaced, but continued to venture around the room. He stopped at the desk when he saw a single picture set up against the table lamp. It didn't have a frame, but it was easy to tell that it was handled with care. There was a young boy in the picture, presumably Dean, and a blonde woman beside him.

"Dr. Lecter?" Dean called out. Hannibal turned at the sound of his name. He took one last look at the picture, seemingly the only deeply personal possession in the room, and walked out.

"Yes?" He replied as he stepped back into the main room and confronted the tall brother.

"The ritual is ready."

oOo

Dean walked closer to Dr. Lecter and glared at him. _Where had he been?_ He wondered. The doctor had wandered away without supervision and Dean had to assume that the man didn't have good intentions.

"Now we've got the main Devil's trap ready for when we summon him. Just in case he somehow breaks the symbol, we've painted another one on the ceiling above him," Dean explained. "Now, we're gonna need all hands on deck if this is going to work. Sam will be reading the spell that will summon him to begin with. I'm going to come up and put an iron cuff on his wrist that has a trap carved into it. That will stop Crowley from smoking out on us. Should anything go wrong, Cas here is going to have his angel blade out and ready. Now Dr. Lecter, how do you plan to get him still long enough to… do your work?"

Dean watched as Dr. Lecter desperately tried to make sense of his words. "Doesn't the Devil's trap keep him from escaping?" He asked.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, but he's still a decent fighter. You plan to somehow overpower him?"

"I suppose. Perhaps you could help?" Dr. Lecter suggested.

Dean smirked. He got the doctor to ask him for help and that was a victory in itself. "Yeah, sure," he replied. "Will?"

The unstable man turned away from the bookshelf on the wall a few feet away from them. He seemed to be completely oblivious to their entire conversation. _Great_.

"You and Sam are gonna deal with the pieces, making sure they're all separate and have the trap symbol carved into them," Dean ordered.

"Excuse me," Dr. Lecter stated. "But as Will's psychiatrist, I don't think it will be good for him to see this process."

"I'm fine," Will interrupted before Dean could argue. "I mean, I work for the FBI in analyzing crime scenes. I should be used to it by now, right?"

Dr. Lecter clearly wasn't happy with his decision, but he didn't stop him.

"So we're good," Dean confirmed. "Will, I'll show you how to correctly carve the Devil's Trap symbol."  
"I'll double check everything, we can't afford any mistakes," Sam mentioned.

Dean glanced over to Dr. Lecter. The man seemed irritated, but he eventually just turned and walked off. _Where the hell does he think he's going?_ Dean thought. He brushed it off. Everything he kept secret was out of sight to anyone who didn't know what to look for. Dr. Lecter was just wasting his time.

Dean spun back to Will. "Let's get started."

ooo

The hours passed by quickly. Everyone was busy doing their own thing in attempt to limit all the possibilities of Crowley escaping. If this plan was to work, everything would have to be perfect. Dean once left to retrieve more groceries and had Dr. Lecter cook everything up. By around 2am, everyone was fed and seemed to be confident with the plan. Should anything go wrong, Castiel would be there to protect them.

"We should get some sleep before the big event," Sam said.

Dean looked over to his brother. He had to admit, he was tired. After two long days of driving and planning without any rest, Dean thought that sleeping for just a few hours was the best idea yet. "Yeah, you're probably right. Where do those two sleep?" He asked, beckoning to Dr. Lecter and his patient.

"Well to avoid any problems, I thought the doctor could stay in your room so you can keep an eye on him. I'll keep Will in my room," Sam replied.

Dean groaned. He didn't want to be anywhere near Dr. Lecter anymore. However, he was too tired to argue. "Fine, I'll set up some blankets."

"I'll return tomorrow," Cas stated simply, and without further explanation, disappeared.

Dean walked down the hall and into his room. He heard the psychiatrist's footsteps following.

"What is it that I am expected to sleep in?" Dr. Lecter asked. "I would like to avoid ruining this suit."

Dean rolled his eyes. This guy was ridiculously impossible to please. "Well I don't have anything," he replied. "I usually just sleep in boxers and maybe a t-shirt."

This caused Dr. Lecter to grimace. "I suppose my undershirt and slacks will have to suffice."

Dean nodded, barely paying attention. "Here," he said, throwing a pile of extra blankets into a heap on the floor. "Goodnight."

Dr. Lecter glared at him and Dean thought he heard the man growl. Dean smiled contently and collapsed on his bed. He rolled so he faced the opposite direction of the doctor and closed his eyes. Everything was set up and ready to go for tomorrow, however Dean was doubtful. He knew better than to get his hopes up. Every time things seemed to be going well in his life, something would go completely wrong and ruin everything.


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm surprised that there're actually still people reading this. Like I said before chapter 1, I still have no idea what I'm doing. Thanks for reading anyway:)**

Chapter Fourteen

Hannibal awoke later than he had expected. It was pushing 10:00am, whereas he was usually up before 7. He neatly pulled back the blankets that he had layered on the floor and stood up to find that Dean was still asleep on the bed. Hannibal crinkled his nose when he found that the man had at some point during the night gotten underneath the sheets and, judging by the 2' gap of exposed back, removed his shirt. Hannibal found this to be completely unnecessary, for he himself had slept just fine in his undershirt. He attempted to ignore it and turned away to face the rest of the room. He wandered around, examining every artifact that had been placed on the walls and dressers.

"What the hell are you doing up?"

Hannibal turned to face Dean. The man was groggy with sleep and now sat up in his bed, confirming Hannibal's assumption about the shirt.

"I was just looking," Hannibal replied simply.

"Well stop," Dean mumbled as he slid back into the blankets.

Hannibal walked closer to the bedpost. "I would like to shower and prepare myself for the day," he said.

Dean groaned and sat back up in bed. "Fine. The bathroom is down the hall to the right, there're some towels under the sink."

Hannibal nodded and turned towards the door, before stopping once again. "Do you have any spare clothes that I may borrow? My suit has been worn long past its last wash," he added, remembering that he had first changed into the suit almost three days ago, the morning where the Winchester's would later interrupt his session with Will Graham.

Dean gave a short laugh. "Nothing that you would like."

Hannibal huffed, unamused. "Well I would prefer anything over something that I have already worn for so long."

Dean rolled his eyes in reply and pulled himself from the bed. He walked over to one of his dressers and pulled a red and grey plaid button up shirt from the drawer and threw it at Hannibal. He went to the drawer below it and threw a washed out pair of jeans in Hannibal's direction. "Here. We're basically the same height, these should fit."

Hannibal managed to catch both articles of clothing thrown at him. He glared down at them in disapproval. He didn't mind the plaid pattern, however the style and fabric of the old shirt and jeans wasn't one that Hannibal preferred. Still, he knew that this was his only option. He knew Will didn't bring any clothes either, and anything of Sam's would be too large. Hannibal sighed and walked out of the room.

ooo

Hannibal entered the living area after his shower to find the others already dressed. He assumed there must've been more bathrooms around, for a building crafted on such a large scale more than likely was built with multiple showers and rooms.

"What took ya so long?" Dean mocked. "I'm assuming it was the hair."

Hannibal grumbled under his breath. The worst part was that the Winchester was right. Hannibal didn't have his usual supplies, so styling his hair into its perfect position was a difficulty. Not to mention that the wardrobe and bathing supplies were not his preference.

"Sam, look," Dean laughed, "He's not even wearing the shirt the right way."

Hannibal frowned and looked down at his shirt. He didn't see anything wrong with it. It was tucked in and buttoned up to the collar, like shirts should be, and the sleeves were all the way down with the cuffs buttoned as well. He looked back up to see that Sam's plaid shirt was unbuttoned and the sleeves were rolled up his forearm. Dean's shirt was styled in the same way, and though it didn't have a plaid design, it was a similar style. Even Will's borrowed shirt was mostly unbuttoned, though it was messy and disheveled, half tucked into his jeans.

Hannibal clenched his jaw. "Does it really matter at this point in time? Do we not have more important business to attend to? I would like to get this done and over with so Will and I may go home," he stated.

Dean was still smirking. "Yeah, whatever. We'll eat a quick breakfast and then we'll be ready to disassemble a demon."

oOo

_It's time_. Dean inhaled deeply, knowing that the next few events would happen very quickly.

"Are we all ready?" He asked. He looked over to Sam, who nodded in reply. Cas stood across from him, angel blade in hand, his blue eyes showing determination and loyalty. Dr. Lecter stood next to him along the outer rim of the first Devil's trap, wearing a makeshift apron over his clothes and holding a handheld motor-powered chainsaw that Dean found in the old weapon chamber of the bunker. Will was shaking, but that was normal for him. The unstable man was crouching along the side of the trap with a thin knife in his hand that he would use to carve the symbol into the pieces as they were cut off by Dr. Lecter. Dean clenched the cuffs in his hands and turned to the small station they had set up to summon Crowley.

"Okay, let's do this," he ordered. "Dr. Lecter, come here."

The doctor seemed reluctant. "Why?"

Dean looked the man in the eyes. "Remember my one condition? We need blood in order to summon Crowley, and I want to use yours. Give me your arm."

Dr. Lecter looked over to Sam, as if asking for backup. When Sam just shrugged, he slowly walked over to Dean and held out his hand. Dean smiled and grasped his wrist tightly. He picked up a small blade and sliced it across the doctor's arm, probably deeper than what was necessary. Dr. Lecter winced and attempted to recoil, but Dean was sure to hold him tightly. He squeezed the arm above the bowl that was already filled with the other necessary items, causing the blood to ooze out. When Dean figured he had enough, he squeezed a little harder, just for his own contentment in causing the man pain. He eventually let go of Dr. Lecter's wrist and smiled.

"Perfect."

Dr. Lecter frowned and tried wrapping a thin fabric around the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Cas, you could-" Sam began, before Dean's intentional cough interrupted him. Dean wanted Dr. Lecter to suffer like he and his brother had to. It wasn't fair to have Castiel heal him so soon.

"C'mon Dean," Sam reasoned. "We need him to do the main cutting anyway; he'd be more efficient if he was healed."

Dean groaned. "Fine, go on Cas,"

The angel stepped forward and touched Dr. Lecter lightly. Immediately, the wound disappeared. Dr. Lecter nodded his thanks and returned back to his saw, glaring at Dean.

"We ready now?" Dean asked, impatient. The others didn't object, so Dean lit a match and dropped it in the bowl.

"Hello boys."

Dean spun around quickly to face Crowley. The demon stepped around in a half-circle to see who else was in the room, and when he faced the opposite direction, Dean darted forward and locked the cuffs around his wrists. He stepped back out before Crowley had a chance to grab him.

"Really? I thought we were done with this," Crowley complained.

"Go!" Dean commanded. Instantly, he and Dr. Lecter launched themselves into the circle. Dean saw the doctor grab Crowley's arms and twist them behind his back, so Dean in return kicked at the tendons behind the demon's knees, bringing him to the ground. Dean desperately tried to get a decent hold on his legs, but Crowley kicked out furiously and resisted. After taking about six kicks to the jaw, Dean stepped out. _Bad idea_, he realized when he saw that Crowley was then able to jolt his body free from Dr. Lecter and then flip the situation, now getting a tight grasp on the doctor's neck.

"Sam!" Dean called out. His brother got the hint and dropped the book of spells that he intended to use only if Crowley were able to smoke out and Sam would be able to recite a reverse exorcism.

Dean and his brother both charged to the center of the circle, bowling Crowley off of Dr. Lecter. Sam landed on the demon's torso and remained there, successfully holding his upper half down.

"Get off me you moose!" Crowley growled.

Dean decided to take a similar approach and splayed himself out over Crowley's legs. Finally, he was able to keep them relatively still.

"Dr. Lecter, come on!" Dean ordered.

The doctor, bleeding from the corner of his mouth and the bridge of his nose because of his fight alone with Crowley, immediately grabbed the small electric saw and crouched down beside Crowley's left leg.

Dean looked away from the doctor when he heard the saw start with a buzz. He locked eyes with Sammy, silently urging him not to look. They've seen some pretty gruesome things before, but seeing this happening and having it be (basically) their idea, was a completely different experience.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Crowley yelled in pain. Dean felt him struggle to escape from him and his brother's hold. Dean heard the saw turn off for a moment and a shoe with some exposed ankle was tossed over to Will. Will recoiled at first and froze, but eventually, he was able to shakily carve the Devil's Trap symbol into the flesh. The saw started up again and Crowley's pained growls and yells filled the room. A calf and a thigh piece were tossed across to Will. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw that the blood was starting to pool around Crowley. Through clenched teeth, the demon appeared to be muttering something. The blood started to ripple and rise beside Crowley. _No_.

Dean launched himself across the Devil's trap and onto Crowley's shoulders.

"Dean!"

He heard someone call his name, he couldn't place who. The sound of his heartbeat drowned out everything else. He desperately tried to shut Crowley up and displace the blood, but it was too late, the demon was already smiling at him. His reinforcements knew he was here and would join him any second. The bunker walls would not be able to ward them off for long.

Now with his legs free, Crowley was able to kick off Sam. He spun around and instantly had Dean's neck clasped between his fingers. _Where's Cas?_

Dean struggled for breath. For a moment he thought he saw his brother try to pull of Crowley, but Dean's vision was blurring and starting to fade. The grasp tightened and he was cut off from all air supply. He heard his heartbeat in his ears start to slow, and then everything was silent.


End file.
